


Behind the Wall

by HaleHathNoFury (My_Trex_has_fleas)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe, Atomic Blond au, Cold War, Dead Laura Hale, Don’t copy to another site, Espionage, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Spies & Secret Agents, Violence, all the espionage, counter esionage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-08
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2019-11-14 00:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18041726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/My_Trex_has_fleas/pseuds/HaleHathNoFury
Summary: Laura Hale has been killed in East Berlin. Her twin and fellow CIA agent Derek has to get her body back and find out who murdered her and stole the List - a top secret document that has the name of every active agent in the world on it. The thing is, everyone else in East Berlin is after it too.  He's offered help in the shape of an agent gone rogue - one Stiles Stilinski. He's Derek's contact but could he also be something more? Maybe they'll stay alive long enough to find out.A Teen Wolf/Atomic Blond fusion.





	1. Laura

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to Ashleymoshow for the beta read :DDDD She also writes Sterek so go and give her a look!

New York, November 1989

The phone rang, it’s pitchy electronic voice like a lance through Derek’s senses. Even under the icy water, he could hear it and it made his gums itch. He shifted, ice cubes bouncing off his body as he changed position and tried to ignore the noise that told him there was still a world outside the walls of the loft, that he was still alive. Christ knew, he didn’t want to be. He didn’t want to get up or acknowledge that he would have to go on. When he looked in the mirror, he wanted to see familiar electric blue and not the hated crimson that had started all this bullshit. 

The phone kept ringing and he blew water out through his nose and surfaced, one hand scrubbing over his face to wipe away the droplets clinging to his lashes. Peter was nothing if not a persistent bastard and he’d keep at it until Derek ripped the phone from the wall or went insane. He was a little too close to that right now so he stood up, ice water sluicing from his body. It was an old trick, one that was used to heal and to torture and Derek had spent many an hour submerged in the cold when he had been a green recruit learning how to control his body and withstand the things that could be done to him if he ever got caught. 

He didn’t know if they had tortured Laura. All he knew was the terrible feeling of their pack bond snapping and then the godawful ache inside him when his eyes had turned red. His Alpha was dead and he was the heir apparent and it had torn Derek apart in a way that the deaths of his family and pack hadn’t. Laura had been the last thing he’d had, Peter too old and too distant to be much help after they had been killed. He’d been gone for six years after, too deep in enemy territory and his cover to be extracted. It had been Gerard’s call not to bring him back and it was just one of the many things Derek had never forgiven the Argents for. 

He sighed as he got out, cracking his neck and leaning heavily on his hands when he got to the sinks. Laura had designed the loft, her bathroom a tribute to industrial chic, and the concrete vanity beneath his hands was comfortingly rough. He kept his head bowed, the only light in the bathroom from the street lamps outside. The whole room smelled like her, the light floral perfume she favoured, all natural to not irritate her werewolf nose. If he opened the drawers in front of him, he would find her make-up, her brushes still choked with thick dark hair. He’d find her nail clippers, a half empty box of tampons, a collection of nail varnish bottles in varying shades of red. It had been Laura’s favourite colour, staining her nails and lips and shimmering on her eyelids. She’d been devastatingly beautiful like that, her eyes the same unearthly heterochromic shades as his. They both had their father’s eyes. 

Derek finally lifted his head and looked at himself. He looked like he’d aged ten years in a day, washed out and unshaven, but then he had been on a bender for the past twenty-four hours and Laura had had one hell of a wolfsbane vodka stash to get through. He’d drunk every last drop before passing out and finally waking with the feeling like someone was trying to hack his head in half. His knuckles had still been torn to bloody shreds, the ‘bane lowering his healing factor to the point of almost human levels. The bloody brickwork in the open space between the kitchen and Laura’s bedroom had spoken as to the cause. Thankfully she was the only occupant of the building, a warehouse smack bang in the Meatpacking District that was surrounded by sweatshops and whorehouses and unlikely to attract any noise complaints from his heartbroken howling. 

Derek met his own eyes and they glowed like blood back at him. He held out only for a few minutes before smashing his fist into the mirror, shattering it into shards and slicing the skin open all over again. When he stumbled into the living area, he was still naked and wet and his hand slipped on the receiver as he bled all over it. 

‘Derek.’ Peter’s voice was flat. ‘They found her.’

Derek squeezed his eyes shut, free hand clenching and his claws digging into his palm as he battled to keep his breathing steady. 

‘Where?’ he asked and Peter cleared his throat. He sounded about as emotionless as Derek had ever heard him and that made him realise just how bad it must be. 

‘They put her in the Spree,’ he replied. ‘Derek, they cut her in half.’

‘Fuck.’ Derek opened his eyes, the shift coming on so strongly he almost lost control. ‘Hunters.’

‘It looks like it.’ Peter was moving around and Derek heard the tell-tale clink of ice cubes into crystal. ‘But we have no idea who. None of the local factions are claiming responsibility and they’d be all over it if they could. As far as we’re aware, no-one knew her designation and you know how good she was at staying under the radar.’

‘So now what?’ Derek asked, but he already knew the answer. 

‘We need you to come in,’ Peter replied. ‘There’s a complication that you don’t know about.’

‘Isn’t there always?’ Derek said and hung up. 

***********

He dressed with the same methodical care that he always had. Peter hadn’t given him a time, so Derek waited until the worst of his cuts and bruises had healed and the stink of alcohol was no longer detectable on his breath. He brushed his teeth, stopping halfway through when a memory of him and Laura doing it together as kids and laughing as they spat foam at each other. It had come blazing through his brain and made him sick to his stomach all over again, retching over the toilet bowl until his whole chest hurt. 

Twins were special, especially for wolf packs. His mother had called them one spirit in two bodies, and Laura had laughed at him for being ten minutes younger and taken great pleasure in whipping his ass on a regular basis for it. Now she was dead, hacked in half and left in the icy water to be dragged out like so much refuse. 

He took a final look at himself in her bedroom mirror as he settled his Sig .45 in the shoulder holster he wore under his jacket and strapped the Gerber combat knife he favoured to his right calf, trying to avoid looking at the heavy piece of furniture. It was a black wood monstrosity from Germany that she’d had shipped over. It was decorated with foliage and wolves, a joke that had made Laura laugh like a drain. He was presentable, the severe lines of the black suit, white shirt and charcoal silk tie making him look like any one of the uptown businessmen, perhaps a young up and coming broker or a property mogul. He’d learned well from Peter that dressing like a gentlemen made people assume you were soft, that they could take you in a fight. That you would never get your hands dirty when your suit cost the same as most people made in a year. It would buy you enough time to let the wolf free and rip their throats out with your teeth so they never made that mistake again. Derek had learned a lot from his uncle and he’d used it enough to know that regardless of what he was sent to do, he’d be hunting down the fuckers that killed his sister and doing just that. Argent would probably caution against that, counsel prudence and discretion, but Derek was angry enough to throw all that back in his face and do whatever the fuck he wanted, and what he wanted was to get revenge. 

He walked the block and a half to 14th Street and caught the subway, getting curious glances from the people travelling with him. He ignored them all, taking the 1 all the way down to the WTC station and getting off. His destination was 7 World Trade Centre, an unprepossessing red-brown building that looked ugly and housed a variety of businesses. He caught the elevator to the 25th floor, walking through and flashing his ID as he entered what was dressed up to look like a branch of the IRS and in reality housed one of the CIA’s New York bases. 

Peter was waiting for him, all slicked back hair and a suit that was cut so sharply it made him look like part of an organised crime syndicate rather than the highest ranking field agent the CIA had in situ. His job was to be handlers for those agents that fell under the coy term of special designation. It was a good catch all for the supernaturals that were employed in the service of the U.S government and all its filthy little secrets. For one, supernaturals could and did make superlative field agents, able to do things humans could not. Secondly, their lower status meant that they were expendable, sent out to do the jobs that no human would even contemplate doing. Peter had more blood on his hands than their entire contingent of human black ops specialists and he wasn’t alone. Derek’s tally wasn’t as illustrious as that of his uncle or even his sister, but it was still well into double figures and he had only just turned thirty, although age had a different meaning to werewolves. 

‘Derek.’ He lifted his chin and flashed blue eyes and Derek wanted to hit him because of course the alpha in him demanded submission and his own eyes flashed back on instinct. It was enough to make the lackey behind Peter shrink back and Derek bared a fang at his uncle and stalked past him. He knew where he was going and went straight to the board room, a simple space with a long polished table and a massive gilt edged mirror on the back wall that hid a cell behind it where he would be observed by someone higher up the food chain than both of them were. 

Chris Argent was already there, dressed in a far more sober fashion than Peter. Derek’s nostrils flared catching the faintest hint of his uncle curled in Chris’ own scent. They used blockers of course but he had one of the best noses at the agency, if not the best. His senses even outstripped Laura’s. His uncle had been fucking Chris since they’d been agent and handler back in the seventies. Nobody knew it except for him and Laura. Not even Gerard Argent, Chris’ father and the head of their department, was aware of that little indiscretion. It made Peter bellow with laughter knowing he got one over on a man who’d regularly sent him out to die and who was blatant in his hatred of supernaturals. 

‘Derek.’ He inclined his head but didn’t get up. Derek nodded back and went to sit on the opposite side of the table, taking out his cigarettes and lighting one without asking. Chris’ look of disapproval only made him snarl. 

Peter came to join them, taking his place next to Chris. There was nothing on the table apart from an innocuous looking brown manila folder, but Derek knew the place was rigged for sound and everything would be recorded. He tapped the ash from his cigarette into the ashtray Peter had placed in front of him and leaned back in his chair. 

‘Will he be joining us?’ he asked and glanced at the mirror. 

‘No,’ Chris said. ‘I think what with events being as they are at the moment, that you understand why he needs to be seen to be keeping a distance.

Derek snorted and inhaled deeply, taking great pleasure in blowing the smoke at Chris’ face. 

‘Cocksucker,’ he murmured under his breath and Chris’ mouth tightened. 

‘What did you say?’ he asked and there was hostility there. There always had been, ever since Derek had been brought in at the tender age of nineteen, angry and insubordinate and having been kicked out of training at Langley for fucking his way through every instructor he’d had so far. 

‘Nothing.’ Derek met his eyes steadily. ‘Unless you’d like them to play the tape back.’

‘I don’t think that will be necessary,’ Peter said, his voice like velvet. His own eyes were fixed on Derek and he knew that his uncle was feeling the strain so he sighed and settled in for what was no doubt going to be a very painful meeting.

‘Tell me,’ he instructed and they shared a look. 

‘It’s not pretty.’ Peter flipped the folder open and took out a series of glossy photographic prints. He laid them in front of Derek and retreated, his blue eyes pained even as he tried to act unaffected. 

Derek picked up the first one. It was a standard coroner’s shot, taken from an angle above. Laura’s skin was as white as marble, the blood leached from her by the cold water. Her eyes were open, the pale green identical to his own now dulled. Her hair was wet and dark tendrils splayed across the stainless steel examination table the had her on, a white sheet draped over where her body had been severed. She was still lovely, not even death had managed to eliminate that, but she was gone. Whatever had made her Laura wasn’t there anymore and he laid the picture back down. 

‘Where’s the other half?’ he asked, not bothering to look at any of the others. 

‘Presumably still in the river,’ Peter said. He tapped perfectly manicured fingernails on the table and took a deep breath. ‘We know that she was alive the day before yesterday and that she had a meeting with a man called Harris, codenamed Chemist, who is working for the Stasi in their intelligence division. He was the subject of a recent agreement for immunity and defection to the West in exchange for a particular document codenamed The List.’

‘What kind of document?’ Derek asked, taking everything in. He had only known that Laura was on assignment and had been for four months. 

‘A microfilm,’ Chris replied. ‘It’s hidden in a Swiss watch and contains the names of every active clandestine agent around the world, every shady deal of every government. It’s value is indescribable.’

‘So what does that have to do with me?’ Derek affected nonchalance, even as his blood started pumping. He caught Peter’s knowing look as his uncle detected the change in his heart rate and cursed himself for being so easily read. He stubbed out his cigarette and immediately lit a new one, using the inhalation to slow his breathing. 

‘We want you in Berlin,’ Chris said. ‘We want that List. By any means necessary.’

‘And Laura?’ Derek raised an eyebrow at them. ‘What about her.’

‘Any investigations will have to be done secondary to the primary objective,’ Peter told him. ‘We’ll leave that up to you.’ He took out another picture from the folder and slid it across the table to Derek. ‘You’ll leave in the morning and catch a flight to Berlin. You’re going in as the brother of Laura’s cover to repatriate her body and sort out her affairs.’ 

‘You’ll be coordinating with our current agent stationed in Berlin,’ Chris added. Derek picked up the picture and looked at the man standing on what appeared to be a street corner. It was a surveillance picture and the man was tall and lean, wearing a heavy Soviet parka and an eye-watering plaid shirt underneath. His hair was buzzed short, dark brown to match his eyes and paired with pale skin spotted with moles. 

‘He looks sixteen.’ Derek was dismissive, tossing the photo back on the table. 

‘His name is Mieczysław Stilinski, although he prefers to go by Stiles for obvious reasons.’ Peter was smiling. ‘Top of his graduating class at Langley, second generation Polish American. His grandparents got out before the ghetto and his father’s one of New York’s finest. Like you, he’s fluent in Polish, Russian and German. We sent him to Berlin when he graduated and he’s been a roaring success. We get better intel from him than any other channel.’ 

‘He’ll be your point of contact,’ Chris said. ‘You’ll be able to get more information from him.’ 

Peter’s chuckle made him come up short and he glared at him. 

‘What are you not telling me?’ Derek asked, smelling the amusement coming off Peter in waves. 

‘Well, let’s just say that Stiles is somewhat unorthodox,’ his uncle replied. ‘He’s been in Berlin for three years and in that time he’s gone...somewhat rogue.’

‘Feral would be a better word for it,’ Chris muttered. ‘The reason he’s in so well with the Stasi is because he’s running his own black market operation.’

‘Explains the clothes.’ Derek nodded at the picture. ‘I’m assuming he’s about as trustworthy as he looks.’

‘Aren’t we all, nephew?’ Peter held out his hands in an expansive gesture. ‘Go. Get the job done. Get the List with as little fuss as possible.’ 

Derek looked over at the mirror, focusing his hearing to lock onto the heartbeat behind the glass. It was sluggish, overworked, and he bared his teeth at the man it belonged to. 

‘I’ll get your damn List,’ he said directly to Gerard. ‘And I’ll eliminate the bastard that killed my sister. I don’t want anyone getting in my way and I don’t want complications.’ 

There was a moment and Chris lifted a hand to his earpiece tucked away discreetly in his left ear. 

‘That is acceptable,’ he said. 

‘Give it to me.’ Derek put out his second cigarette and watched Peter close the folder and slide it across to him. 

‘Good hunting, Alpha,’ he said and the change of designation stuck in Derek’s throat like an errant chicken bone. He got up, picking up the folder and collecting his coat before walking out without looking back. 

Once outside, he hailed a cab and directed the driver to Brooklyn. He needed to get drunk fast and the best wolf bars were out there. He also needed to talk to some of his contacts and get a few things that wouldn’t be quite on the CIA’s list of stores. 

He’d need them for what he had in mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Track Listing: Cat People (Putting Out Fire) - David Bowie


	2. East Berlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is just trying to make a living.

_East Berlin, November 1989_

Stiles set up in his usual place, a couple of upturned crates serving as his shop counter for his open suitcase that contained his gear. He cracked the bottle of Jack next to him and sloshed some into a shot glass and downed it before clapping his hands together, a pleased smile crossing his face as he surveyed the crowd. The place was a dump, an abandoned warehouse and a sanctuary for those who wanted an escape, no matter how brief, from the grind of living in East Berlin. Here there were people of all ages, punks and schoolkids and intelligentsia mixing as they listened to music smuggled in by people who sold it on in the form of a thousand bootleg copies. There was American alcohol, cigarettes and brands that promised a life of freedom and hid the fact that the U.S. laboured under just another kind of lies, lies that promised prosperity but only if you were white, had a dick and a trust fund. Stiles was white and had a dick, that much was true. Unfortunately he was down on the trust fund and so this little sideline business that he’d carefully cultivated was not just a means to an end but also a nest egg for when things invariably went tits up and he’d be forced to run for his life. He wasn’t so foolish to think that he’d never be touched by what he did.

The tall skinny kid in front of him had a mohawk and pictures clutched in his hands and Stiles grinned. Money was good, but information was better, especially if it was the kind of information that he could use to screw over whoever came knocking. He’d long outgrown any loyalty to his home country, especially after seeing what had happened to people he’d known and loved. Alan Deaton had recruited him the day after he’d manifested his magic at thirteen and Stiles had given up any hope of ever having a normal life as soon as he’d stepped foot in Eichen House. He’d left everything behind and become the perfect child soldier up until the day that he was told his mother was dead. He hadn’t even known she was sick, but Dr Valack had simply explained it away by stating that his family was never going to be Stiles' priority and that he couldn’t afford to be distracted.

That night, Stiles had lost control of his Spark and burned down the entire facility with Valack and his Dread Doctors still inside it. He’d taken a great deal of pleasure in watching the fire rage, sitting on the front lawn with several of his fellow gifted classmates. Lydia had held his hand and laid her head on his shoulder and sung lullabies in his ear. Now she was somewhere in Hong Kong, using her banshee powers to conduct feasibility studies for upcoming assignments. Stiles thought of her often and wondered if she would ever scream for him. She had screamed for Laura though, Stiles knew that much and regretted not being able to get to her in time to stop whatever had happened. He’d liked Laura, admired her strength and her ruthlessness. It had hurt to hear she’d been found in the river.

He took the offered pictures and handed the kid an unopened bottle of Jack. It was easy pickings, getting these kids to spy for him. The Stasi were complacent and easily fooled, a corrupt organisation working for a corrupt power just like he was.

‘Straight from the tit of the Virgin Mary.’ he said around his cigarette. ‘Don’t drink it all at once.’

The kid gave him a lopsided smile that reminded him of his best friend from grade school and Stiles let his eyes drift over the crowd as he wandered off. Then he spotted the person he wanted, his upright form and his nervousness a dead giveaway. He was dressed like a normal businessman, his heavy coat swamping a narrow tall body that gave him the appearance of a particularly ugly grey bird, his black hair scraped to the side and shiny with pomade. Stiles got up and collected a bottle of Jim Beam and a Jordache handbag from his stash, walking over to Harris. He was busy examining something on the makeshift bar that Danny ran, funded by Stiles of course, and Stiles winked at his business partner as Danny handed Harris a beer. He flashed his dimples at Stiles and then moved away, giving them privacy to speak.

‘The Jordache wasn’t easy.’ he declared, slamming the handbag down on the counter and jostling a collection of bottles.

‘It’s for my wife’s birthday.’ Harris cringed away from him, grabbing the contraband and stuffing it into his valise.

‘Nice.’ Stiles spat on the ground, as close as he could get to Harris’ very shiny shoes. ‘Where’s the fucking List?’

‘I gave it to Laura.’ Harris stammered. ‘I met her last night and transferred the microfilm to her. She said she was going to get it to you and that I was to come back tonight.’

‘That’s all well and good, but Laura didn’t show to our meeting,’ Stiles hissed. ‘And do you know why? Because they pulled half her fucking body out of the Spree this morning.’

‘That is not my problem.’ Harris had pale weepy eyes. ‘I did my part and now you must do yours and get me and my family out of here. I can’t stay. If they find me, I’m a dead man!’

‘Should have thought about that before.’ Stiles was unmoved. ‘If you can’t deliver on the terms of the deal, then it’s off.’

‘But…,’ Harris’ eyes were wide and panicked. ‘You must help me!’

‘I must do exactly dick,’ Stiles replied. ‘Now you make with the List or I’ll take you out back and shoot you my fucking self!’

Harris clutched his valise to his chest, his breathing coming shallow and quick.

‘You’d kill me?’ he asked. ‘After I’ve risked my life to help you?’

‘Fucking A.’ Stiles smiled at him, all teeth. ‘You think I give a shit about someone willing to sell out his country? Not a fucking chance, amigo.’

‘But you don’t care about your country either.’ Harris spluttered and Stiles put a mildly threatening hand on his shoulder.

‘Do as I say, my friend. Not as I do.’ He got right in Harris’ face. ‘No List, no comfy ride to the West. It’s as simple as that.’ He let his magic bleed out a little, his eyes lighting up from brown to violet. ‘I can make you disappear, Harris. You know what I’m capable of.’

‘Mein Gott.’ Harris wriggled free from his grasp, his eyes shifty. ‘All right, all right.’ He started to speak but there was a blare of sirens and they both looked up in time to see flashing lights reflecting through the warehouse windows. People dropped their drinks and started running.

‘Fuck.’ Stiles grabbed Harris by the arm and started running, towing him behind him through the chaos. ‘Fucking Stasi bastards!’ He got to his suitcase and slammed it closed before shoving it at Harris. ‘You need to get lost and find me a goddamn copy of that List!’

‘No wait.’ Harris scrambled after him, juggling the suitcase and the valise. ‘Look, I don’t need to get a copy. I am the copy.’

‘What?’ Stiles squinted at him. ‘What the fuck are you talking about?’

‘I memorised it!’ Harris hissed. ‘Every name and every detail. You get me and my family out and it’s all yours!’

‘Jesus.’ Stiles skidded to a stop and looked at him. ‘Prove it.’

‘Your real name is Mieczysław, you are twenty-four years old, your birthday is the 25th of April and you visit the Penny Lane brothel every week. Your favourite is Johan but his real name is David.’

‘His real name?’ Stiles spluttered. ‘Okay, fine. I’ll get you across.’

‘Thank you Stiles.’ Harris was unbearably smug. ‘You’re a good man.’

‘Fuck off!’ Stiles snapped and then reared back as a Stasi car pulled into the alley they’d come into. ‘Shit on a fucking stick!’

‘I’ll be in touch.’ Harris murmured and just like that he melted into the shadows, leaving Stiles to face the approaching men.

‘Asshole.’ he muttered under his breath, realising that Harris had absconded with his suitcase. The men approaching him looked like the kind he really didn’t want to tangle with if he could help it and Stiles sighed. This was turning out to not be his day. The only one having it worse was Laura fucking Hale.

‘Guten abend.’ He came forward, giving them what he hoped was a winning smile. ‘Documenten?’ He took out his wallet, deliberately fumbling it to get within striking distance before slamming his fist into the nearest man’s face and knocking him down, wheeling and getting an elbow in the throat of the other. He shoved him hard, falling to his knees and bringing his forearm up to deliver a hard blow to the first man’s testicles as he staggered forward, bouncing to his feet in the next instant to take the second man down with a carefully placed kick to the knee and straddle him. He placed his hand to the man’s forehead, a little surge enough to knock him out and ensure he’d wake up with no memory of Stiles at all. He went to the second man, still grabbing at his throat and trying to breathe and did the same thing before relieving him of his wallet and hat, stripping him out of his coat and putting them on.

He jogged over to the car, getting in and driving off towards the wall. It took ten minutes and when he was close enough, Stiles slowed and got out. He raised a hand, using his Spark to ignite the car in a ball of fire and send it careening down the road towards the group of soldiers that manned the watchtower, listening to the sound of gunfire as it passed. Attacks like these were not uncommon and he waited until the car had their full attention before making a run for it. He ducked and weaved and used the shadows to get past them, sliding down to hide behind and electric box, flipping up the grate of the sewer entrance next to it and disappearing into the dark below as the car exploded, before lifting it back up and throwing out the cap.

Stiles descended the ladder, not waiting for the commotion to die down before he was running through the tunnel. He used his magic to light the way, a dim blue light that gave him just enough to see by. He’d always envied other supernaturals their ability to see in the dark, but then he had other things that made up for it. He reached inside his own jacket and pulled out the miniature Jack he had stashed there and cracked it, downing it in one. He eventually got to the other side of the river, coming up in an alleyway not far from the district where he lived. His apartment was a complete floor of one of the grand old buildings from the turn of the century, all floor to ceiling windows and cluttered with all the detritus of his life. He kept his gear here, slept and fucked and ate there as well. It was a mess, things piled up haphazardly but it was home and warded heavily against intruders.

He got to the front door, the wards glowing white as he passed and letting him in. The rest of the building was occupied by students, a good deal of whom had no idea that he was even there. One or two had a touch of magic and they tended to nod at him if they crossed paths, but Stiles liked to know everyone and nobody. Danny was the only thing he had resembling a friend here. Laura had been too, but that was now down the shitter. Pity, he’d miss her deep laugh and fantastic cooking. He’d once made a huge pass at her, hoping she’d be as good in bed as he’d experienced werewolves to be but she’d shut him down by chucking him under the chin and calling him kid.

Stiles threw his front door open and kicked it closed with aplomb. His mother had always said that style was important and he’d taken those words to heart. He checked the place thoroughly before taking out his gun and placing it on the table in what passed as his kitchen. There was a pot of cold pasta in the stove from the night before. He’d made it expecting Laura to come by but now he regarded it sadly and then grabbed a wooden spoon and started stuffing his face. Waste not, want not. He ambled over to his answering machine, pressing play when he saw a red light flashing.

‘Stiles, it’s your uncle Peter.’ Peter’s smarmy voice made him grimace. ‘I thought I’d let you know that you’re getting a visitor. Be at Tegel at ten sharp. Don’t be fucking late.’

‘Christ.’ Stiles rolled his eyes. He knew the man had just lost his niece and their lead field agent, but he could at least have given Stiles the morning off. He vaguely wondered what kind of visitor it was and then decided he really didn’t want to know.

He contemplated a shower, then contemplated a trip to the whorehouse. He settled on sitting at the kitchen table and finishing the pasta and opening a bottle of Stoli he had in the freezing. It had been there purely for Laura’s consumption and he filled two tumblers, setting one on the table and raising the other to it.

‘Here’s to you Laura Hale,’ he said. ‘You were a hell of an operative and a fine piece of ass. I sincerely hope you’re kicking in the balls of all those cunts on the other side.’ He drained the glass, coughing a little at the sting of the vodka in his throat.

Predictably, Laura said nothing back. Considering her situation, it was fair.

Stiles sighed and refilled his glass.

Three hours later, the bottle was empty and he was prone on the bed that stood in the middle of his living space. He thought about rubbing one out and then decided he was too tired. After all, he had to collect Peter’s visitor in the morning and the last thing he wanted to be was late. Peter scared him, just crazy enough to be completely unpredictable and in charge of Stiles’ manifest destiny.

‘Fucking Harris.’ he mumbled and turned over so his face was in the pillow. ‘Fucking bastard Stasi.’

************

_New York, November 1989_

On the other side of the Atlantic, Derek was just getting started.

‘Maybe you should slow down.’ Scott looked up from where he was applying salve to Derek’s knuckles. There was a sting as his healing kicked in and started to close up the tears.

‘Maybe you should shut the fuck up,’ he replied and ignored the hurt look on Scott’s face as he emptied the glass he was holding and refilled it. He had no use for this, wasn’t ever meant to be an Alpha. Now he was stuck with it and the ragtag group of kids that Laura had made her pack after a rogue alpha had gone on a biting spree through Brooklyn. Scott had been the first, but there was also Isaac, Erica and Boyd. They were all good kids, clean cut and on track to have lives that meant they could pay their bills without having to kill people for a living like he and Laura had. Scott was in veterinary school, Isaac studying to become a social worker to help abused kids like the one he had been. Erica was training to be a beautician and Boyd worked with his grandfather and uncles at their garage. Derek had always been on the fringes of the pack, but now he had been landed right in it.

He sighed and reached out, hand on Scott’s shoulder. He could smell the sadness bleeding off of him, feel his tension even if Scott was keeping it inside. They had all felt Laura’s pack bond break and they were all grieving.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, voice rough. ‘I’m being an asshole.’

‘Yeah, you are.’ Scott grabbed the tape and started taping up Derek’s hand. ‘She was our Alpha too.’

‘I know.’ Derek sighed. ‘This wasn’t what any of us wanted.’

‘Do you have to go?’ Erica asked. She was curled up with Boyd on Scott’s couch, her mascara all cried off and her face pale. ‘We need you here.’

‘I have to.’ Derek told her. ‘I don’t care how long it takes, but I’m going to find out who killed her and make them wish they’d never been born.’

‘And then?’ Isaac’s voice was barely above a whisper but Derek heard him. ‘We can’t keep losing people. It hurts.’

‘No shit.’ Scott finished what he was doing and got up, taking the first aid kit with him. ‘And he’s right. You need to come back and sort this shit out.’

‘You know it’s not that simple.’ Derek replied, but he knew it was just an excuse.

‘Laura always said that too.’ Boyd’s deep voice always came as a surprise to him because he so seldom spoke. ‘And now she’s dead. You need to get out, Derek. We need a proper alpha and you need a pack.’

Derek looked at all of them, seeing the way they looked back with fear and loss and pain. It made him want to howl.

‘Okay,’ he finally said. ‘This is the last time. When I get back, I’ll quit.’

‘Ha.’ Erica was bitter. ‘It’s just bullshit though. Peter’s never going to let you go. He wouldn’t let Laura go. She had to die to get away.’ Her face crumpled and then she started to cry, great heaving sobs that horrified Derek because out of all of them, she was the strongest and would be the last one to break down. Boyd moved in closer, cradling her in his arms and whining softly to try and soothe her but Derek knew it wouldn’t do any good. He looked at Isaac, but Isaac was curled in on himself so he looked at Scott and saw fierce determination in his dark eyes.

‘Promise,’ he demanded. ‘Say it.’

‘When I get back, I’m done.’ Derek repeated. ‘I’ll be your alpha.’

‘Good.’ Scott turned back to the sink. ‘Now just make sure you don’t fucking die out there.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Track Listing: Fight The Power - Public Enemy


	3. First Impressions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek arrives in Berlin.

The flight to Berlin took a little over eight hours and Derek used them to drink the plane dry of vodka and listen to Depeche Mode on repeat, resetting the cd each time it ended. He was in business class, sitting alone at the window and trying desperately to ignore the smells and sounds around him that set his teeth on edge. His papers had been delivered to him at the airport by the hand of Peter’s secretary, a red haired woman he knew only as Jennifer. Inside had been his passport and identity documents as well as the details of his hotel. She had also informed him before he left that Stiles would be collecting him from Tegel and Derek had to admit he was intrigued. He’d stayed up late the night before in Scott’s apartment with the pack, watching them sleep and reading his dossier on Laura’s assignment, her life in Berlin and the man who was her contact. He’d been more than a little surprised to see that Stiles’ designation was Human. Supernaturals didn’t tend to work with humans for a variety of reasons. 

Apart from that there was nothing out of the ordinary in Stiles’ profile. He’d gone to Beacon Hills High in California, then Columbia to do a criminology degree before being recruited. His academic scores were off the charts so Derek could see why he’d come to Peter’s attention. He was a well established presence in Berlin and by all accounts could handle himself so he’d make a good contact if he could be trusted. Then again, Derek had really only trusted Laura so that was out of the question. 

The captain announced their descent to Tegel in German and English and Derek breathed in deeply and did up his seat belt, his stomach lurching as the plane started to bank.

**********

Stiles woke up with a mouth that tasted like he’d licked a stray dog’s ass and a pounding headache that was only exacerbated by the strident ringing of his alarm. He cracked an eye open and then winced as remembered Peter’s words. 

‘Fuck.’ He sat bolt upright, then groaned as it felt like his brain was colliding with the inside of his skull. ‘I am so fucking late.’ He managed to get out of bed mostly by falling while still tangled in his sheets. Then it was a quick waddle to piss and shower, throw on the same clothes he’d been wearing the night before and a gargle over the sink because he couldn’t find his toothbrush. 

His car was parked a street away in a garage he rented off an old couple who were blissfully unaware of what he did for a living. The wife had a disturbing habit of pinching his cheek when he dropped off the money every month, babbling at him in German. Stiles got in, taking a moment to think fondly of his Jeep, up on blocks until he got back from his current living hell. Sure the Porsche was hot and fast as hell but it wasn’t the same. He lit a cigarette, slapped his sunglasses on his face and put his foot flat. It was already after ten. 

***********

The plane didn’t so much touch down as thump heavily onto the tarmac and Derek had to shake off the brief flare of anger that ran through him. He was still in control, but it had been close because he’d drifted off into thoughts about Laura. He waited until the other passengers around him unbuckled and started to collect their things and disembark before he made his own move, thanking the attendant on his way past and noting the way her pulse quickened and her pupils dilated when her eyes swept over him. It was a natural reaction, the primal side of human brains reacting to him in a way that was strictly animal and Derek had taken advantage of it many times before, sometimes for work and sometimes not. If he’d been in less of a rush he would have suggested spending her layover in his hotel room but he was pressed and so he gave her a brilliant smile, admiring her red hair and freckles before leaving her behind. 

Getting through passport control was simple. The dour man behind the desk glared at him until Derek took off his sunglasses and then stamped his passport with not so much as a blink. Derek took it back and thanked him in German. He didn’t need to stop at the baggage carousel, his weekender bag and carry-on all he was travelling with. 

Outside the sky was grey, much like the architecture. Derek did a quick sweep and put his sunglasses back on, then frowned as he was approached by a young man, clean cut and impeccably dressed. 

‘Mr Hynde?’ he asked and Derek narrowed his eyes and looked him up and down. 

‘Yes?’ This was not what he was expecting.

‘Mr Stilinski has been detained. We have been sent to collect you.’ The young man turned to indicate a sleek black saloon behind him and Derek did a double take as he saw another young man identical to the one speaking at the trunk. He often wondered what it would have been like if he and Laura had been identical instead of fraternal, but these two gave him the creeps they were so alike.

‘I was not made aware of this.’ Derek’s alarms were all ringing but it was compounded by curiosity at how they knew the name of his cover and the name of his contact. He nodded and handed over his things to the other man, doing a quick assessment. The touch of accent gave them away and he could smell the cordite on them. No wolfsbane though, not surprising since he could smell the wolf on them too so just ordinary rounds. He got into the door being held open for him. The other twin got into the other side and the one who’d been doing the speaking got into the driver’s side.

He started the car and Derek shifted. He glanced sideways and spotted the weapon the other twin carried, smirking when the young man saw him looking and tried to discreetly pull his jacket closed. It wasn’t like it was unusual for operatives to be armed, but they all knew that guns weren’t the only things at their disposal. 

‘So?’ Twin One said. ‘Is this the first time you’ve been to Berlin?’

‘Yes,’ he replied, careful to keep his tone neutral. One of the things he’d learned in training was how to block his scent and he was thankful that he’d decided to do so before he’d left the airport on the other side. The last thing he needed was to give away the fact that he was an alpha to two strange wolves. 

‘It’s a great time to be here.’ His driver glanced at him in the rearview mirror. ‘The food is first rate, great nightlife and culture.’ He reached up and took a black business card from the visor and handed it back. ‘You should check out this cafe, go there for a coffee or something stronger perhaps. You’ll need it later.’ 

Derek accepted the card and then noticed movement in the side mirror of the car. They were being tailed by a black Porsche and he slid the card into his pocket and waited for the action to start. 

*********

‘Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ Stiles was furious with himself. He’d arrived just in time to see a tall man that bore a striking resemblance to Laura Hale get into a car with two men he recognised instantly as the twin alphas that worked for Deucalion. The Soviet operative had his own pack consisting of alphas and they spread their reign of terror throughout east and west Berlin. Stiles had tangled with them on a few occasions and only his magic had saved him from being ripped apart. 

Now they had his contact, the man that was coming to help him collect the List and no doubt find out what had happened to Laura and Stiles would put good money that he was a Hale. those eyebrows alone were enough of an identifying feature and if the man was a Hale then that meant Peter was his uncle or some other relative and if Stiles let him get taken by the Alphas he would be stamping visas in an embassy in some bumfuck country for the rest of his pitiful life. 

That is if Peter didn’t just decide to eat him. 

***********

Derek knew the jig was up the moment the driver turned a sharp right down a ramp into an underground parking lot. He calmly removed his sunglasses and tucked them into an inside pocket. 

‘Do you remember your friend, Mr Deucalion?’ the young man asked and Derek’s hackles went up immediately. The alpha known as the Demon Wolf had been the one who’d betrayed his mother on her final mission, the one responsible for injuring her so badly she’d had to retire from active service. 

He moved slowly, using the brief intervals of darkness in the car to ease the knife from its sheath and flip it so the blade was facing in along his right forearm. 

‘Not really,’ he growled and the flash of red eyes in the rearview mirror surprised him. 

‘No?’ his driver asked. ‘Well, he remembers you and he’s very interested in why exactly you’re here in Berlin.’

The twin next to him let out a low growl and his eyes also flashed red and Derek knew he had to act. He swung the knife in a brutal strike, feeling it crunch through bone and cartilage as he stabbed the alpha in the chest. The twin driving let out a yell and his brother roared in pain as Derek hit him again and again until the twin managed to get his arms free and grab his gun. Derek dropped the knife, wrestling with him for control and three rounds went into the roof of the car. The next one went through the windscreen and Derek threw out an arm, smashing the twin’s head back against the window. He got the door open and shoved the man out, but he had extended his claws and was hanging on for dear life. That threw Derek into a rage and he flashed his eyes, fangs dropping and claws out as he managed to kick the alpha in the face enough for him to lose his grip and tumble out. 

He saw the Porsche drive right over the downed wolf and then turned his attention to the driver, ignoring the man’s furious growls as he grabbed for him. 

***********

‘Fuck me!’ Stiles swerved wildly, but felt the man go under his wheels with a thud and sent up a prayer for his suspension. Whatever was happening in the car in front, it was wild. Whoever this man was, he was more than capable of handling himself and Stiles had to admire his style.

***********

The driver grabbed for his own weapon but Derek was pissed and he lunged between the front seats and grabbed the man’s wrist, claws digging in. The driver hissed in pain and dropped the gun and Derek got his elbow up, smashing it into the driver’s face several times and hearing the satisfying crunch of breaking bone. He hit the seatbelt release on the driver’s side, then wriggled through enough to grab the steering wheel and twist it violently to the right. 

‘What the fuck are you doing!’ the alpha yelled but Derek just gave it another yank and then threw himself backwards, grabbing his own seatbelt to anchor himself in as the car’s front right wheel hit the concrete barrier and flipped up and over, sailing through the air and landing right on its roof in a spray of shattered glass and twisted metal.

***********

‘Holy mother of fuck!’ Stiles couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He slammed on brakes, the Porsche drifting sideways to a stop in a screech of tires. He jolted hard and then sat and panted to get his breath back, staring at the wreck in front of him. He threw his door open and got out, damn near running to get to the other car. There was a combat knife lying on the ground in front of him and he stooped in one motion to pick it up and then leaned in to look in the back.

‘Welcome to Berlin,’ he wisecracked. ‘I’m Stiles Stili…’ 

He didn’t get to finish his little greeting, throwing himself back and thanking all his deities that he had superhuman reflexes when a bullet missed his nose by under an inch. 

‘Where the fuck were you?’ a very angry and very attractive voice yelled from the car and Stiles winced. Yeah, that was a Hale all right.

‘Don’t shoot!’ he called back, waving the knife like a peace offering in front of the window. ‘Look, I’ve got your knife.’ 

‘Fuck,’ the man growled and then he was pulling himself out of the wreckage and Stiles could only stand and gape at him because damn. Laura had been been hot, like heart-stoppingly gorgeous, but Stiles’ little bisexual heart had never encountered anyone as straight up beautiful as the man in front of him. He had the same colouring as Laura, dark hair and what-the-fuck eyes that changed as the light hit them. On him the straight Hale nose and oddly sensual mouth made Stiles’ poor depraved cock stand to attention. 

‘Hi.’ He lifted a hand and gave Hale a little wave. ‘So, that was fun.’

‘You almost got me killed,’ Hale rumbled. Even his voice was sexy, if a little higher than Stiles had anticipated. ‘You were supposed to be there at ten.’

‘In my defense, I overslept because I was drinking to your dearly departed sister’s memory,’ Stiles said, and boy was that the wrong thing to say. He found himself being lifted bodily by the collar of his stolen Stasi coat and slammed against the wrecked car, his ribs creaking in protest and his air supply in danger of being cut off as Hale’s eyes flared red and his fangs snapped right in Stiles’ face. 

‘What the fuck do you know about my sister?’ he snarled and Stiles squeaked and flailed to try and escape. Wolves were ridiculously dramatic but they were also strong as fuck. 

‘If you let me fucking breathe, I’ll tell you.’ He flapped a hand at Hale and the wolf tilted his head and then let him down none too gently. 

‘You have one minute,’ he growled. ‘If I don’t like what I hear, I’ll rip your throat out. With my teeth.’

‘Fine,’ Stiles snapped, going over and kicking at the unconscious driver of the vehicle. He had no doubt the other one had taken off after being hit by the Porsche. Werewolves were so damn hard to keep down. ‘This is one of the Steiner twins, guard dogs for an alpha called Deucalion. I have no idea if it’s Aiden or Ethan though, I can never tell those fuckers apart.’ 

‘I know of Deucalion,’ Hale said. ‘What’s he doing in Berlin?’

‘That I don’t know.’ Stiles waved a hand at the man on the ground. ‘Do me a favour and grab him would you.’ The raised eyebrow he got was equal parts boner inducing and utterly terrifying. ‘What? You wolves are fucking heavy.’

Hale glared at him and then came over, lifting the driver over his shoulder like he weighed nothing and all of Stiles blood threatened to head south for the winter. He trotted back to the Porsche, opening the trunk so Hale could deposit the man inside. Stiles watched him saunter back to thump against the other car with a large fist so that the trunk fell open and his bags landed on the ground as Stiles tried to fit Steiner’s legs in the Porsche. 

‘Five fucking minutes on the ground and I’m already made.’ Hale sounded pissed as hell, not that Stiles could blame him.

‘You’re not made.’ He tried to pacify him but Hale wasn’t having any of it.

‘They knew my fucking name!’ he spat.

‘Well, that’s troubling,’ Stiles said. 

‘They knew yours too.’ Hale seemed a little smug about that and Stiles frowned. 

‘Well, that’s hardly surprising,’ he admitted and then looked down. Steiner had woken up and was blinking groggily at them, one hand coming up in protest. 

Hale did a spectacular eye roll and punched him in the face, knocking him out again. Stiles grinned at him, completely impressed and starting to be more than a little smitten. 

‘Nice,’ he said and slammed the trunk shut. 

************

Derek was fuming. It was taking everything he had not to claw the Porsche’s very nice upholstery. The man next to him, Stiles Stilinski as he’d been informed in a far too cheery voice, was a menace. He was too loud and too full of nervous energy that bled into his scent and went right up Derek’s nose. He drove like he had no sense of self-preservation and talked constantly. Derek was already desperate for a pair of ear plugs. 

The car sped down graffitied streets and now he was getting a running commentary, as if Stiles was some sort of demented tour guide. Everything about him was discordant, from his Stasi clothing to his tragic Sinead O’Connor haircut. 

‘It’s to blend in,’ Stiles told him and Derek realised he’d said the last bit aloud. ‘You want to touch it?’ He leaned his head over invitingly and Derek was appalled at himself to find he actually did want to see if it was as soft as it looked. He clenched his hands into fists, determined not to be won over. 

‘It makes you look like an idiot,’ he sniped and Stiles’ response to that was simply to burst into bright, overlarge laughter that rang in Derek’s ears. 

‘Whatever, sourwolf. That was the Brandenburg Gate, by the way. That’s Checkpoint Charlie and my apartment is back there.’ He waved a hand around and Derek wished he’d keep them both on the steering wheel. 

‘I’m not a fucking tourist, Stiles.’ He grabbed for the hand grip above his head to stop himself from sliding around as Stiles took the corner rather more violently than was necessary. ‘I’m here to do a job, so just take me to my fucking hotel and drop me off. It shouldn’t be far from here.’

‘No problemo, big guy,’ Stiles chirped, looking far too pleased with himself. ‘Just one teeny thing I got to do first.’ He slammed on brakes and Derek nearly went flying through the windscreen. He growled but Stiles was already out the car and opening the trunk. 

Derek opened his door and got out, elbow on the roof of the Porsche as he watched Stiles drag Steiner’s still unconscious body out of the car.

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ he asked and Stiles gave him a manic smile. 

‘Sending a message to a fascist pig,’ he replied and dragged Steiner onto the sidewalk and dumped him there in front of a glass window that was emblazoned with the sickle and hammer. He wound Steiner’s tie around one hand and leaned in. ‘Say hi to Comrade Deucalion for me.’ Then he slammed his fist into Steiner’s face, whooped happily and came back to the car. 

‘You’re fucking insane,’ Derek told him as they got back in. 

‘All part of the service,’ Stiles said and winked at him. 

Derek resolutely shut his mouth and ignored the way that set off a pleasant lurch in his stomach. He was not here to get entangled in anything. Still, as he watched Stiles drive away he couldn’t help but notice how attractive he was in person. His photos really hadn’t done him justice or shown off the highlights in his warm amber eyes, the length of his neck, the creaminess of his skin or the lusciousness of his scent. He was like a walking werewolf wet dream. 

‘Not that I’m ungrateful, but the service seems to be a bit lacking,’ he sneered, trying to cover up what he was feeling. 

‘Yeah, sorry about that,’ Stiles snickered, rubbing one hand over his buzz cut. ‘It’s really fucking hard to get the staff.’

‘Christ.’ Derek put on his best unamused tone and he’d learned that from Peter so it worked like fuck. ‘You’re a fucking disaster zone.’ He’d hoped for some sort of submission from Stiles but all he got was another bark of laughter. 

‘I’m amazed that isn’t in the file.’ His warm eyes were full of humour. ‘Peter must have told you a bit about me. Besides, he fucking loves me. That’s why I’m still here and not manning a checkpoint in the Antarctic.’ 

Derek rolled his eyes. He could completely understand why too. Stiles had the same chaotic energy his uncle exuded by the bucket. 

‘Yeah, well he’s easily swayed by a pair of pretty eyes and a mouth that won’t shut the fuck up,’ he retorted and then growled when Stiles pulled up outside a building that bore the name of his hotel. He threw the door open and was just about to get out when Stiles grabbed his arm. Derek glared between Stiles, his arm and the offending hand and Stiles quickly took it off.

‘Wait.’ His face was lit up like a missile strike over Lebanon. ‘You think my eyes are pretty?’

‘Goodbye Stiles,’ Derek said and slammed the door shut. He retrieved his things from the trunk and walked away, hoping like hell that things would get better. 

***********

Inside the Porsche, Stiles was cackling in delight. He was not someone who was attracted to people who were easy to handle, and Hale was about as difficult as they came. His cock was half hard from just that little interaction and he sighed happily and sank down in his seat. 

‘It’s about fucking time,’ he said to himself and drove off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Track Listing: Major Tom - Peter Schilling


	4. Reclamation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek goes to Laura. Stiles starts poking his nose in.

The Central Morgue was housed in an almost barbaric concrete monstrosity of a building. It towered over the front entrance and Derek straightened his coat and started for the long line of stairs, taking his time as he ascended towards the front entrance. At the top he stopped and turned around, catching a glimpse of the black BMW motorbike streaking past. He’d spotted his tail when he’d left the hotel and it had followed him all the way to the Institut Für Reghtsmedizin. He’d tried to see who the rider may have been, but all he could discern from the black leather clad form was that it was a woman. Now it seemed like her surveillance was done and so she was taking off and the roar of the bike died away into the sound of the traffic.

Derek snorted and went inside. He was met by a low level bureaucrat and taken to a waiting room where he proceeded to sit. It was a dismal inside as out, a maze of corridors with yellow glass and the oddly green tinted lighting making it hellish inside. He suspected that anyone that worked there would probably be sent mad after a few years' incarceration. He lit up a cigarette, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke out to the ceiling in defiance of the signs stating it was against the rules. He kept his sunglasses on as well, his werewolf sight enough to follow those around him without giving himself away.

A reprieve came in the form of a stern faced woman, somewhere between forty and sixty and with the kind of bedside manner that screamed temporally displaced Nazi. Her white coat was pristine and her heels clicked impatiently on the marble floors as she came to stand in front of him.

‘Herr Hynde?’ she asked and Derek got up, taking off his sunglasses.

‘Doctor Schmidt.’ He inclined his head. ‘I’m here to arrange the return of my sister, Elizabeth Hynde. She’s an American citizen and I would like to take her home to be buried.’

‘The body was identified by an attache from the American Embassy.’ Schmidt said and Derek nodded.

‘Yes, that’s right.’ he replied and her ice blue eyes narrowed at him.

‘It was not a question. It was a statement.’ Her mouth tightened at the corners. ‘Follow me, please.’

Derek followed her, keeping his mouth shut. The last thing he needed was to piss off the people who had Laura. Schmidt led him deeper into the building, the painted walls changing to dark green tiles that gleamed in the fluorescent light. The air was tinged with formalin and other chemicals but underneath it all was the unmistakable stink of human decay. It made him want to snarl at the thought of Laura being in a place like this, not when the last memory he had of her was of her sharp smile and a wriggle of her fingers as she waved goodbye before she got into the town car that took her away and to her death.

He hadn’t thought he could feel any more pain than he had when his family had been killed but he’d been wrong. The only difference was that now he kept it all on the inside.

The morgue was a long room lined with stainless steel doors in the walls and examination tables down the centre. Several were occupied and Schmidt led him to the furthest one where the draped cloth fell away far too soon over the body it concealed.

‘Are you sure you wish to see?’ Schmidt asked briskly. ‘She was mutilated quite badly.’

‘Show me.’ Derek kept an iron grip on his control, the wolf inside him raging and howling in distress.

Schmidt said nothing, simply flipped the cloth back with a practiced flick of her wrist. Derek inhaled sharply but kept his cool. He had been expecting the worst and was somewhat surprised to see that Laura didn’t look anywhere as bad as he’d expected her too. The weather was cold, it was November after all, and she hadn’t been in the water long enough for anything to have a bite at her. The next thing he noticed was the complete lack of scent that she carried, and that more than anything else brought home the fact that the thing lying on the table wasn’t Laura anymore. It made it easier to look at her and start to catalogue what he saw.

Laura’s long dark hair was dry now, but it lacked the glossy shine it usually had. She had cared for it, brushing and conditioning her tresses until they gleamed in a waterfall of dark brown several shades lighter than his own hair, which veered much closer to black. Her pale eyes were now discreetly sewn shut, her dark lashes sweeping her cheeks and her skin was perfectly white. The only thing out of the ordinary that he could deduce were the broken nails that told him she’d fought hard for her life. That and other defensive wounds that didn't seem to have healed before she’d been cut in half told him she'd been dosed with wolfsbane and most likely also electrocuted. Whoever had killed her knew their stuff. Laura had been young for an Alpha, but she’d also been strong and well-trained. The person who’d killed her had been able to get very very close and that made all kinds of ideas go off in his head.

‘She was a beautiful young woman.’ Schmidt was watching closely. ‘You were twins?’

‘She was older.’ Derek stepped back, away from the table and the lack of scent and warmth and everything that had made up _alphasisterpack_. ‘By ten minutes.’

‘I see.’ Schmidt clutched the clipboard she was carrying to her chest. ‘You have the transfer papers?’

‘Here.’ Derek handed over the envelope he carried with all the required documentation in. It would allow Laura’s remains to be repatriated, such as they were. They still hadn’t found the other half of her. Schmidt examined them and then frowned.

‘These are incorrect,’ she stated. ‘They are not for a human.’ Her mouth was doing tight little moue of disgust and Derek caught the scent of distaste washing off of her.

‘That’s right,’ Derek replied evenly, the churning in his gut making him feel nauseous but not showing at all in the detachment on his face. ‘She was a werewolf.’ He felt pleased when the distaste changed to fear as she looked at him, her entire demeanour changing when she realised that if Laura had been a werewolf, then he was too. He flashed his eyes at her and she gasped and took an involuntary step back. ‘Now I would appreciate it if we could get things moving. I have other business to attend to.’

Things moved quickly after that and it took barely an hour before Derek received confirmation that Laura’s body would be transported to the airport to be returned. He would of course have to return with new papers should they find the other half but for now that was all they could do. He left the morgue and took himself to lunch, eating mechanically and without tasting anything but knowing he had to get food in his belly if he was to keep his strength up.

His next stop took him to a sleek modern shopping arcade, the kind frequented by West Berlin’s more affluent residents and lined with exclusive jewelry shops. The shop at the end was discreet, its windows curtained in deep green velvet and hiding the interior. He stopped to read the gold lettering before opening the door, breathing in metal tinged cool air. Inside there was a single counter, the glass top showcasing the selection of watches inside that rested on fat yellow velvet cushions and gleaming gold and platinum. The shop itself was empty apart from a single workman behind a caged partition, shirtsleeves rolled up and his double glasses resting on a long narrow nose.

Derek moved over, glancing at the merchandise briefly before affecting a casual stance against the counter and facing away from the cubicle to keep a lookout through the door.

‘I’d like to purchase a watch,’ he said. ‘I need access to a network in East Berlin.’

The man gave no inclination that he’d heard him, continuing to tinker with the mechanism in his hands. Eventually he sighed and spoke, his voice low and thickly accented.

‘Come back tomorrow.’ He laid the watch down and glanced at Derek. ‘Before closing.’

Derek said nothing else, moving away from the counter and leaving the shop as quickly as he’d arrived. He spent the rest of the afternoon walking the river and watching for his tail, but he couldn’t spot anyone following him. He stopped in at the embassy to make a call to Peter’s office. Jennifer answered and he confirmed that Laura’s body had been processed.

He sat and drank coffee in another cafe and ate a slice of herrentorte to go with it. Laura had raved about it in the few letters she had sent, her cover as a corporate lawyer allowing her to take long lunch meetings. It was as delicious as she’d described but the enjoyment of the decadent taste was tempered by the grief that was only now starting to lick at his edges. Still he ate it and thought of her. Laura had always loved sweet things, their mutual love of dessert making them keen cookie thieves when they were well into adolescence until his taste turned from chocolate to something just as sweet but also far more deadly. It had always felt like a monumental betrayal that his family had paid the price for what Derek had thought was harmless fun.

It was getting dark by the time he got back to the hotel and his bottle of duty free vodka stashed in his baggage. He added a couple of pinches of the powdered wolfsbane he carried to the clear liquid and went to refill the ice bucket, making several trips to the ice machine until he had a good six inches lining the bottom of the tub in the bathroom. He ran the cold water, sipping his doctored vodka with a cigarette clenched between his teeth as he watched the water level rise. His hotel was modernist, all glass bricks and blue and pink neon lighting and once the bath was prepped, Derek stripped off his clothes, his naked form reflected in the mirrored wall as before he stepped into the bath. He lowered himself into the frigid water and submerged until everything else died away and he could just float in the cold and the quiet, rolling in the water onto his front, opening his eyes and slowing his heart rate right down until it felt like he was almost in stasis. His werewolf senses were completely obscured like this, no scent or sound to plague him. He’d been taught this during his training where it had been meant to inure him to torture and had had the unexpected side effect of providing Derek with a way to step outside himself enough that he could keep on living.

He lay there long enough for the ice cubes to melt away, only coming up for enough air to keep from drowning. When he started to lose feeling in his finger and toes, Derek finally emerged from the water and shook the excess out of his eyes. The emotional agony was difficult when his body was in survival mode, the pain from the cold easing his grief enough to focus. He got out, towelling himself off before pulling on the black sweatpants he’d brought in with him and then going back into the room.

His senses took a little while to come back online, still dulled enough that the only thing he smelled was the subtle hint of tobacco that wasn’t his brand and Derek immediately went into fight mode. He dropped the towel he was using on his hair to move on soundless feet towards the corner of the wall that led into the sitting area of his suite, coming around the corner and catching the man concealed behind it by the front of his jacket and slamming him against the wall, knocking the air out of him before hurling across the room and onto the bed, leaping in a single movement to land astride the intruder and pinning him down with a clawed hand around his throat, his eyes glowing red in the mirror behind the bed.

‘Fuck.’ Stiles choked around the cigarette still miraculously held between those full cocksucker lips. He shifted the butt to between his teeth and gave Derek a hazy smile. ‘I’m not sure if I should be shitting myself or coming in my pants.’

‘You’ve got some balls breaking in here,’ Derek snarled. ‘I must say I’m impressed.’

‘You should see the actual size of them,’ Stiles smirked, arousal curling sticky sweet off of him and making Derek’s pulse jump. ‘Then you’d be really impressed.’ He squirmed, his lithe body warm and enticing between Derek’s legs. He was very tempted to grind down on Stiles’ cock and see if he might find that impressive too. Certainly the bulge in the worn denim was promising.

‘I’ll take your word for it.’ He stole the cigarette from Stiles’ mouth, catching the heady flavour of Stiles’ lips on the butt when he put it in his own mouth, inhaling deeply and blowing the smoke in Stiles’ face. Their eyes met and locked and the tension ratcheted up several notches.

‘Please do.’ Stiles managed to make the words sound unbearably filthy, his eyes dark with want. ‘You saw Laura?’

The words were like being thrown back in the cold water and Derek immediately lost any desire for any kind of intimacy. He climbed off, ignoring the sudden wash of disappointment in Stiles’ scent.

‘Yes.’ He walked over to the dressing table and turned over the second water glass provided, sloshing a good measure of Stoli into it and making one up for himself before coming back to hand the undoctored one to Stiles. ‘She should be picked up and transported by the end of the week. There was some issue with the fact that she was a werewolf so it will take a little longer than originally anticipated.’

‘A week?’ Stiles’ eyes glittered under the neon and there was a flicker of something that had Derek doing a double take, not quite sure what he had seen. ‘Lucky fucking me.’ He accepted the drink and took a long pull. Derek watched him intently. There was something itching at him, something about Stiles that he couldn’t quite put his finger on and it was driving him insane trying to figure out what it could be.

‘What do you know about the woman who’s been following me?’ he eventually asked. ‘Got a thing for fast bikes and black leather.’

‘I’d say that you’re a very attractive man and that you should do the math.’ Stiles’ smile was crooked and devastatingly lovely. ‘Perhaps you should slow down enough to let her catch up, see what she wants.’

‘I’m here for business, not pleasure,’ Derek replied. ‘I don’t need distractions.’

‘No?’ Stiles grinned. ‘You sure about that.’ He placed the glass on the nightstand and stood up. He’d replaced the Stasi coat with a wrinkled blazer, but the plaid and t-shirt underneath were similar to the ones from the day before. It was all at odds with the confident way he moved, the surety in his actions as he backed Derek up against the wall, plucked the cigarette from his mouth and flicked it through the bathroom door and into the bath before sliding one hand over Derek’s cock and squeezing just right. ‘I think a distraction might be just what you need right now.’

Derek breathed in deeply, taking in Stiles’ scent through his nose. There was something odd there, a delicate hint of ozone that he’d never encountered before. He was starting to think the Human designation in Stiles’ file was all a load of bullshit but he was fucked if he could figure out what Stiles might be.

‘What makes you think you’ve got what it takes?’ He fought to sound uninterested but there was no hiding the reaction of his body as he got hard quicker than he had in a very long time. Stiles’ large hand was warm and his touch was expert, sliding along the shaft with the perfect amount of friction. He looked right into Derek’s eyes, his full mouth curling in a smile that was seductive in its clear amusement.

‘I don’t know, big guy.’ He leaned in, hot breath washing over Derek’s mouth. ‘Maybe you should get on your back for me and find out.’

His words set off a chain reaction in Derek’s body, his cock now standing to attention and his breathing going off kilter. He wasn’t the kind of guy many read as someone who liked to get his ass fucked good and hard but Stiles had somehow seen right through him.

‘Yeah.’ He tilted his chin up defiantly. ‘You going to give it to me?’

‘Any way you want, baby,’ Stiles purred. ‘I’ll fuck your ass so good, you’ll forget your own name.’

Derek cocked an eyebrow at him, but when Stiles got in close enough for him to feel just how hard he was too, it was difficult to push what was on offer away. Still, he managed and Stiles let him.

‘Okay.’ He held up both hands, his cock an obvious line against the front of his jeans and his arousal still coming off him in waves. ‘You want to call the shots, I’m good with that. I can appreciate you’re kind of skittish and I don’t blame you.’

Derek huffed a laugh at him and pointed at the door.

‘Out,’ he ordered and Stiles pouted at him but left to go anyway. When he got to the door, he turned and gave Derek one last look.

‘You know, you’re going to have to trust me a little if we’re going to find out who killed Laura,’ he said and Derek smiled back at him, no humour in it at all as he walked over to shove Stiles into the corridor.

‘I don’t trust anybody,’ he said and nodded at the door. ‘Don’t let it hit you in the ass on the way out.’

‘Fine.’ Stiles grumbled. ‘Kick a man out while he has the mother of all hard-ons.’

‘You’ll survive,’ Derek smirked and slammed the door shut in his face. This time it felt immensely satisfying and he was still smiling when he went back to the bed to pick up the glass Stiles had drunk from. He inhaled at the brim, catching the smell of Stiles’ saliva and wondering how it would smell on his cock or his ass. He could imagine that Stiles would be the type to eat him out, get him good and wet before sliding those long fingers home and nailing him in his sweet spot before easing out and fucking him until Derek would lose control and howl the place down.

He threw himself back on the bed, yanking his sweats down just enough to get his cock in his hand., already leaking copiously. It was an idiosyncrasy of werewolf biology, the strings of precome making sex an easy thing between mates. Derek used it to wet his hand, the drag of his foreskin up and down his cock making him pant and his eyes flash red. Laura had told him how becoming an alpha had made her incredibly horny, her underwear getting soaked at the drop of a hat, and Derek could believe it. He was so hard, his arousal a dull ache in his balls, and he tightened his grip enough to make himself come in under a minute, so turned on by Stiles and his cocky assurance that he’d fuck Derek just how he wanted it that his claws ripped right through the bed covers and he bit a hole in the pillow.

When he calmed down enough to think again he was covered in white streaks of come and utterly disgusted with himself. The last thing he needed was to get rut-drunk over some pathetic human, even if that human was as profoundly attractive as Stiles was. What Derek needed was to get his head in the game and stop thinking with his dick. He needed a lead and what he had was a business card for a cafe and a yen for alcohol.

It was time to go check out the notorious Berlin nightlife he had heard so much about.

*************

Stiles barely made it to the hotel stairwell before he was scrabbling at his jeans and getting his cock out. It took barely three strokes before he was coming all over the wall, his semen glowing white under the neon. He stood there, one arm braced against the wall and the other covered in his release as he tried to get his breath back.

He’d never quite gone down this fast before, but there was something about Derek that just pushed all his buttons. The alpha was surly and hostile but there was that sharp wit and the fact that Stiles had also done his homework and knew just how formidable Derek was. Wet work was his speciality, using his werewolf strength and agility to get into places nobody else could and using those super senses to take down targets that were said to be impossible to get to. He was also educated, a polyglot who liked cats and loved to read in his spare time according to Laura, and loved his sister enough to come to Berlin and out his life on the line to avenge her. He would kill to have that kind of love and loyalty and the fact that it would come attached to the most physically perfect man he’d ever met was just the icing on the cake. Stiles didn’t allow himself to want things, not since his mother had died, but he wanted Derek and not just to fuck either.

He straightened himself up, using a piece of drapery in the hallway he escaped into to clean his hand off and then went on his way. He did give himself a critical look when he got to the lobby, shaking his head at his reflection and it’s goofy smile.

‘You are so fucked, buddy.’ he muttered to himself, but thankfully his inner asshole declined to reply.


	5. Central Cafe and a Femme Fatale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek finally meets his mysterious shadow and Stiles has plans that are not fit for public consumption.
> 
> Time to earn that rating *cackles*

The Central Cafe wasn’t so much a cafe and more of a bar, the decor lush with gilt and crimson velvet very much in effect. Derek couldn’t help but notice that all of the elegantly dressed clientele were not human, getting more than one appreciative glance when he walked in and thanked his lucky stars that he’d trusted his instincts and dressed up for the occasion. He was wearing one of his nicer suits, one that Laura had helped him pick out because if left to his own devices, Derek would have dressed solely in jeans and t-shirts. He’d always favoured comfort over style, which was ridiculous considering that his entire family had been clothes horses. Peter spent more on one pair of Italian shoes than Derek tended to on his clothes for an entire year. Of course, it did help that the CIA picked up the bill. 

He handed off his coat to the doorman and took a seat at the bar, ordering a Stoli on the rocks, clean. He didn’t want to have anything interfering with his instincts, not in a place like this. He gave the bar a quick sweep, noting the table of vampires in the corner, all of them wearing sunglasses in spite of the fact that it was night. There were a couple of aufhocker at another table by the window wearing the faces of a beautiful young woman in the supermodel mold and some dwarves arguing over what appeared to be a tray full of gold nuggets. There were more werewolves than he’d encountered in Berlin so far but everyone seemed to be keeping themselves to themselves. There were even some humans, either accompanying or braving the bar on their own. It wasn’t unusual for those humans in the know to have a fetish for the creatures of the night and Derek turned back around and took out his cigarettes. 

He was about to take his lighter out his pocket when one appeared in front of him, the flame lit, and he leaned forward and inhaled as the cigarette caught light. When he looked at his new companion, Derek instantly knew her as the woman who’d been following him from her manner and the fact that she was poured into a sleek black dress cut to the waist and showing off her remarkable assets. Her dark skin was flawless apart from four parallel claw scars at her throat and he knew that she was someone who could handle herself if she’d managed to survive an injury like that. She tossed her black hair over one shoulder and her lips, painted a deep burgundy, curved in a knowing smile. 

‘You’re a hard man to pin down.’ she said and Derek raised an eyebrow at her. 

‘I had no idea that pinning me down was on someone’s agenda.’ he replied and she smiled. 

‘I wouldn’t mind.’ The admission was frank and her dark eyes swept over him from head to foot. ‘I haven’t had a wolf like you in a while.’

‘And you won’t tonight either.’ Derek returned the smile and leaned on the bar. She smelled like a thicket of deep red roses, but underneath was the unmistakable scent of cordite and gun oil, the sweet herb-like tinge of wolfsbane there for anyone to smell. He wondered just where on her person the weapon was stashed, seeing as the dress left little to the imagination. 

The woman smiled but now it was accompanied by a look that was more shrewd, clearly assessing him. 

‘We don’t get many Americans in here.’ She held out a strong hand, the nails cut short. ‘I’m Braeden.’

Derek took it, feeling the callouses just where he expected them. 

‘Braeden what?’ he asked and she laughed. It was deep and throaty and in spite of himself, Derek was starting to like her. 

‘Just Braeden,’ she replied. ‘Mr…?’

‘Derek,’ Derek said. ‘Let’s not play games. You clearly know who I am.’ Now it was his turn to assess her. ‘Who do you work for? Are you a hunter?’

‘The answers are myself and no,’ Braeden replied. ‘But I knew your sister. We used to be...close.’

Derek wasn’t surprised. Werewolves were not particularly bothered by gender and took their pleasure where they chose. He certainly did and he knew that Laura had had similar predilections. 

‘Then you know she’s dead.’ he said and for the first time Braeden’s mask slipped a little. 

‘Yes.’ She turned back to her drink, single malt whiskey from what Derek could smell and a very expensive one at that. ‘What we had ended when she came to Berlin and then she met someone else.’

That was something new and Derek’s metaphorical ears pricked up. If he had been in his wolf form his literal ones would have too. 

‘Who?’ he asked, intrigued by this information. Laura had given no indication that she was involved with anyone. 

‘I don’t know.’ Braeden admitted. ‘Your sister could be very secretive when she wanted to. It seems to run in the family, as does your line of work.’

‘All families have legacies.’ Derek leaned in a little closer. ‘Even those of mercenaries.’

‘Not this one.’ Braeden turned her chin into her shoulder and looked at him. ‘I’m proposing an alliance.’  
‘I don’t need a partner.’ Derek told her. He raised a hand, letting the backs of his fingers drift down her bare arm. ‘And as lovely as you are, I try not to let myself get turned around by a pretty face.’

Braeden huffed a soft laugh. 

‘No?’ She sounded just a little bit scornful. ‘Then why are you running around with Stilinski?’

‘That would be something that I need to know and you don’t,’ Derek said. 

‘Fair enough.’ Braeden shrugged. ‘Just be careful. He’s not what he seems.’ She drained her glass and picked up her coat, a full length silver mink, from the chair next to her. Derek took it from her and helped her into it, catching another breath of that intoxicating perfume. 

‘I’ll try and not get into trouble.’ he said and she chuckled. 

‘You’re already in it.’ She nodded to someone behind him. ‘Up to your fucking eyeballs. Here. My friend has a club down on the Oranienstrasse. You should check it out.’ She pressed a piece of paper into his hand and walked past him, nodding at whoever it was that had prompted her abrupt departure. 

Derek glanced over his shoulder as she left, seeing a man walking over. He was dressed in a three piece suit, the cut impeccable, and his face was lined. His eyes were obscured by dark glasses and he held a white stick in his hand, although neither of those things lessened the sense of power that oozed from him and Derek knew he was in the presence of a very strong alpha. 

He caught a glimpse of another two wolves that were hovering nearby, a tall dark haired Asian woman and a bald white man with a face like a professional fighter, and was not unsurprised to sense that they were alphas too although nowhere near as powerful as the one now settling onto the bar stool next to Derek. He was handsome in a suave way, his sandy hair tinged with silver and his features sharply sculpted.

‘You smell like your mother.’ he said and his accent was an extraordinary mix of British and Russian and Derek remembered from the files that Deucalion had been educated at Oxford before the Iron Curtain came down and that his family had been related to the Tsars. 

‘I don’t remember what she smelled like.’ Derek said and Deucalion’s mouth curled in an unpleasant smile. He waved a hand at his face. 

‘Tiger lilies.’ he replied. ‘It’s inscribed on my memories.’

‘You almost killed her.’ Derek had to struggle not to growl. 

‘And she blinded me. It was a fair exchange,’ Deucalion countered. He beckoned and as if by magic a glass of merlot appeared in front of him. ‘What were you discussing with our lovely mercenary?’

‘Just a friendly conversation.’ Derek killed his cigarette and sipped his drink. ‘I would rather discuss why your guard dogs tried to take me out after the picked me up from the airport.’

‘It wasn’t meant to get out of hand.’ Deucalion smirked. ‘But the boys can be a little overzealous. I did, however, notice Mr Stilinski’s less than subtle hand in the affair.’

‘He seems to get around.’ Derek muttered. ‘So much for covert operations.’

‘With supernaturals nothing is covert for long.’ Deucalion smirked. ‘And Stiles has a very big, albeit lovely, mouth. He’s only managed to evade the Stasi and every intelligence service by using his very special skills.’

‘Sarcasm and terrible flirting?’ Derek ventured and Deucalion chuckled. 

‘Maybe you don’t know as much as you think you do.’ he said. ‘Perhaps you should ask your handler. I think you might find that an illuminating conversation.’

‘I’m not interested in what Stiles may or may not be.’ Derek replied, steadying himself so as not to give away the fact that he very much was interested. If Deucalion heard the lie, he gave no indication of it. 

‘What are you interested in then, Derek Hale?’ He tilted his head and there was a flash of red from behind the dark lenses of his glasses. 

‘Laura.’ Derek stated. ‘I want her killer.’

‘Just that?’ Deucalion’s smile bordered on feral. ‘No other reason for you to be in Berlin?’

‘None at all.’ Derek was thankful that his conviction carried the lie easily. ‘As soon as I have that person, I’ll be gone.’

‘Hmmm.’ Deucalion lifted his glass, tilting it so the light gleamed through the wine and made it look like blood. ‘What do you know about the Jaguar?’

Derek’s blood went cold. Every operative out there knew about the Jaguar. They were not so much a double agent as a player that had a hand in every government currently on the nuclear stage. They were rumoured to be behind every terrible act of terrorism against the supernatural in the past five years and more than one assassination of government figures, leaders of small regimes and corporate overlords. If they were involved and looking for the List, it could not be for any reason other than global chaos. 

‘As much as anyone else.’ He drained his glass and signalled for another. ‘What do they have to do with this?’

‘They’re here in Berlin.’ Deucalion said. ‘I know this because they’ve killed a rather annoying number of my men in the past month and always the same modus operandi. You know what that is?’

Derek felt like he’d been punched in the gut. How he’d missed it, he’d never know. It just hadn’t registered because the idea of Laura being valuable in any way to someone like the Jaguar was outlandish. 

‘You’re saying that the Jaguar killed Laura?’ he asked. ‘Why the fuck would they do that?’

‘Because your sister was on the trail of something very important.’ Deucalion’s eyes were now glowing steadily. ‘Something I think you know about and are actually here to find.’

Derek battled to keep his cool, his own new alpha instincts raging at him to snarl and accept the challenge Deucalion was presenting. 

‘I’m here to take Laura home.’ he repeated. ‘That’s all. Now if there’s nothing else you want to tell me, I’ll be leaving.’

Deucalion moved to block his way and Derek found himself toe to toe with him. He didn’t back down, flashing his own red eyes at him and letting out a deep growl. He could posture if that was what was needed. 

Eventually Deucalion’s eyes faded and he stepped back. 

‘Very well.’ he said. ‘But remember that if you get in out way, we will have no compunction in sending you home in a box along with your sister.’

Derek lifted his chin defiantly and smiling at him with his fangs bared. 

‘I look forward to it.’ he growled and shouldered past him. 

He got out into the cool night air and shook it off, breathing deeply until his eyes went back to hazel and his claws retracted. 

‘He’s something, huh?’ Stiles voice came out of the shadows and Derek snarled at him. 

‘What are you doing here?’ He moved quickly and Stiles grinned, putting his hands up.

‘Following you, obviously.’ he replied, stepping back to avoid confrontation. ‘Besides, it was pretty obvious what your next move would be. I see Braeden found you.’

Derek regarded him, shoving his hands in the pocket of his coat. 

‘She said you’re not what you seem.’ He looked back at the cafe. ‘And so did Deucalion.’

‘So?’ Stiles shrugged, but there was the tiniest telltale trip in his heartbeat. ‘Nobody here is.’

‘Yeah, but you’re something else.’ Derek lifted his head and scented the air, the scent of thunderstorms in his nose. ‘Your file says you’re human. Your dark file says you’re human.’ He dropped his head and flashed his eyes. ‘You’re not fucking human.’ 

Stiles smiled and then his own eyes glowed, not anything like any were but a deep ultraviolet, but it was only for a second. 

‘Not here,’ he said, turning on his heel. ‘My place.’ 

Derek hesitated for only a moment before following him. 

**********

Deucalion watched them go from inside the cafe. Next to him, Kali growled. 

‘He’s an arrogant cub,’ she sneered. ‘Let me handle him.’

‘Not yet, pet.’ Deucalion smiled. ‘He’s here for the same thing we are. Laura’s death is merely a convenience to cover up the fact that he’s also looking for the List. This had Peter’s fingerprints all over it. And if he’s roped in the Spark to help Hale, then all we have to do is bide our time and let them lead us to the List and take it.’ 

‘What if the Jaguar has it?’ Ennis asked and Deucalion snarled. 

‘We’ll let him deal with the Jaguar.’ He got up and Kali took his arm. ‘Why risk ourselves when we can let them kill each other and reap the rewards.’

************

They got to Stiles’ apartment and Derek followed him in, not missing the brief glow of wards on the wall of the entrance lobby. 

‘Magic?’ he asked and Stiles threw him a devil-may-care smile over his shoulder. 

‘You’re getting warmer.’ he replied. 

His apartment was on the top floor and when he opened the door and ushered Derek inside, Derek was astonished by what he saw. The space was stacked with crates and boxes, interwoven with bookcase upon bookcase. Stiles led him through the maze after closing and locking the door, taking him to a couple of couches adjacent to a kitchen area. 

He went to the fridge while Derek surveyed the contraband, stopping to take out a copy of Playboy from a cardboard box resting on several crates of French wine. 

‘Your black market extends to Larry Flynt?’ he asked and Stiles laughed, coming back with two glasses and a bottle of Stoli that was misted from being in the freezer. 

‘Champion of free speech.’ He put the drinks down on the coffee table to the side of the couches and came over, plucking the magazine from Derek’s fingers. ‘Let me take your coat.’

Derek shrugged out of it, sure he wasn’t imagining the tiny electric shock when their fingers brushed. Stiles draped it carefully over a nearby stack of boxes and gestured to the couch. Derek wen to take a seat, and he came to sit opposite him.

‘What exactly is your clearance?’ he asked, his face suddenly serious. 

‘I have Alpha designation,’ Derek replied. ‘You want to tell me what the hell is going on?’

‘I’d rather show you.’ Stiles said and then his eyes were glowing again as brilliant ultraviolet flames danced through and over his fingers. He held them up and Derek was so shocked he could barely breathe. 

‘You’re a Spark?’ He could hardly believe what he was saying. Sparks were the rarest of the rare, only one per ten million population. 

‘Yup.’ Stiles extinguished the flames and poured out the vodka. ‘Now you know something that very few do, apart from those powerful or old enough to have sussed me out. That’s how Deucalion knows. Turns out he used to fuck a Spark before the revolution. Braeden knows because I got her out of a nasty scrape with the Alpha pack about a year ago. Apart from them and your uncle, nobody else does.’

‘Laura did though,’ Derek said, putting two and two together. 

‘I was her contact, her way in,’ Stiles replied. ‘She was the one that got the Chemist to give up the List, but that was actually just a happy coincidence and not her actual assignment.’  
‘No.’ Derek could see that now. ‘She was after the Jaguar, wasn’t she?’

‘We both were,’ Stiles told him. ‘Your sister was using the List as bait. Unfortunately it backfired and the Jaguar took her out.’

‘Did they get the List?’ Derek asked and Stiles shook his head. 

‘No. It hasn’t surfaced and bodies have been turning up like nobody’s business so we can rest assured that the Jaguar is still looking for it.’ He downed his drink and poured another. ‘But it doesn’t matter. I have the Chemist and he’s actually managed to memorise the entire thing. Turns out the fucker has an eidetic memory. All we have to do is get him across to the west so he can defect and we’re golden.’

‘Let me guess.’ Derek looked at him. ‘You need me to help you do that.’

‘Peter did say get the List at any cost, didn’t he?’ Stiles grinned. ‘I know he did.’

‘Just how well do you know my uncle?’ Derek was curious. 

‘Not like that, fuck.’ Stiles looked nauseated. ‘No offence, but your uncle has bad touch written all over him. Thankfully it’s Chris who has to suck his cock.’

Derek huffed a laugh. 

‘What do I get out of the deal?’ He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Stiles met his look and his dark eyes were fierce.

‘Believe it or not, your sister and I were friends,’ he stated. ‘Laura was an amazing person who I was very fond of and I don’t get attached to people. I want to get the fucker that killed her every bit as much as you do. You help me get the Chemist out and I’ll do everything in my power to help you take the Jaguar down.’ 

Derek heard no deception in his words or his heartbeat. He drank down the vodka in his glass and held out a hand over the space between them. 

‘Deal.’ He waited for Stiles to take his hand and then pulled, getting an outraged squawk as Stiles tumbled into his lap. He grabbed the Spark’s wrists, twisting them behind his back and effectively immobilising him. Stiles mouth fell open, his scent flooded with annoyance and arousal in equal measures. 

‘You asshole.’ He tried to get free and Derek chuckled and tightened his hold on him, enjoying the way Stiles was wriggling on his lap immensely.   
‘Now, now.’ He bared his teeth and the surge in Stiles’ heart rate completely contradicted his pissed off expression. ‘Earlier you couldn’t get close enough.’

‘So?’ Stiles snapped. ‘That was when you weren’t being a dick.’

‘I’m always a dick,’ Derek smirked and kissed him. Stiles made a muffled protest and then completely melted in his arms, going pliant and making the sexiest little moan. His mouth opened at the barest brush of Derek’s tongue, letting him in and fighting back with equal fervour. It was all teeth and tongues and spit everywhere until Derek finally got tired of acting like an eighth grader making out for the first time and slowed things down, sucking on Stiles’ lower lip until he was moaning like a Kurfürstenstrasse whore. 

‘Oh, you cocksucker,’ he groaned when Derek ducked his head and clamped his teeth to the sliver of shoulder just visible under Stiles’ t-shirt. ‘Let me fucking go so I can fuck you. I’ve been having literal dreams about that ass of yours and how much I want to stick my cock in it.’

‘Not yet.’ Derek pulled back and looked up at him, tracking the way Stiles’ pupils were blown and smelling the ozone scent get stronger. ‘I want to keep you on edge for a while.’

‘I knew it.’ Stiles was panting, his cheeks pink from trying to get free. ‘You’re going to fucking kill me.’

‘Unless you stop whining, I might actually just do that.’ Derek nosed along his jaw, taking the time to lick at the tender spot just under Stiles’ ear. ‘Fuck, you smell amazing.’

‘Wolves,’ Stiles snorted, grinding down on Derek’s cock and making him growl. ‘You going to sniff my ass?’

‘No.’ Derek bit down enough to make him gasp. ‘Might eat it though.’

‘Fuck, yes please,’ Stiles moaned. ‘You full shift?’

‘Why?’ Derek was delighted at how responsive Stiles’ body was, his neck reddening beautifully from the ministrations he was bestowing on it. ‘You dream about being knotted? You want me to stick my dog cock in your ass?’

‘Holy shit.’ Stiles arched back off of him, his cock a rock hard line in his jeans. ‘Keep talking like that and I’ll come before we even get started.’

‘You’re a kinky little fucker.’ Derek let go with one hand, the other still keeping Stiles’ wrists pinned, and shoved his free arm under him enough to lift him right off the couch. ‘I’m going to fucking break you.’

‘Do your fucking worst,’ Stiles hissed, trying to bite him as Derek carried him over to the unmade bed in the middle of a circle of boxes. Derek dodged his snapping teeth and threw him on the bed, hard enough that Stiles bounced around in a flail of ungainly limbs. He ended up on his back, glaring at Derek but still completely and utterly aroused. The sticky sweet scent was back in force and Derek took off his jacket and undid his cuff-links, slipping them into his pocket before tackling his tie. 

‘Get naked,’ he ordered, yanking hard on the knotted silk. ‘Now.’

‘Shit.’ Stiles scrambled for undress himself, fingers fumbling at buttons and his grubby chucks going flying through the air. Derek watched him amusement as he floundered around on the bed, all uncoordinated energy and desperate horniness more befitting an inexperienced teenager. His skin was beautifully pale and dotted with the same moles that graced his face and Derek knew that he’d be drawing lines between them with his tongue before the night was over.

‘You’re fucking ridiculous,’ he remarked, taking off his shirt and folding it neatly, balancing it on a tower of liquor crates. 

‘Jesus fucking Christ.’ Stiles was staring at him with his mouth hanging open again. ‘Holy shit, dude. You’re fucking built.’ 

‘Don’t call me dude,’ Derek huffed, snapping his belt out through the loops in one smooth action. ‘And don’t make me ask you again.’

‘You’re a fucking bossy bottom.’ Stiles was trying to drag his socks off. ‘Should have fucking guessed.’

Derek actually laughed at that. He usually fucked to get rid of his anger but this was turning out to be far more enjoyable than he’d anticipated. He was very much looking forward to riding Stiles’ cock so hard he’d shut the little shit up. He undid his pants and shimmied out of them, leaving him in his sensible black briefs. His cock throbbed and he stroked along the shaft, hissing at the friction and already wet. 

‘Okay.’ Stiles had finally managed to divest himself of all his clothes and his body was a gorgeous series of sleek muscle and pale skin begging to be bitten. He scrambled onto his hands and knees and dug around in a box next to the bed, muttering about lube. 

Derek took the opportunity to get a little more up close and personal with that perfectly round ass. He got onto the bed, knee walking until he could get Stiles by one hip, holding him in place as he got in close enough to breathe him in, his face almost in Stiles’ ass. Here, Stiles’ scent was heady and at its most undiluted. He could stay like this for days if he was allowed. He let Stiles go long enough to pull him open and drag his tongue from Stiles’ balls up and Stiles made a sound like a dying cat and fell face first into the bed. 

‘Pretty sure I should be rimming you.’ It was muffled by the covers and Derek laughed. 

‘I like this.’ he replied, licking until Stiles was wet enough to get his tongue in. ‘You taste as good as you smell.’

‘Motherfucker,’ Stiles breathed, head down. Derek smiled against his skin and went to town, using every trick he he knew and licking him open, only pulling back when he felt the tremor in Stiles’ thighs. 

‘Okay.’ He shoved Stiles onto his back. ‘Give me the lube.’ 

‘No.’ Stiles still had it clutched in his hand and he made a feeble attempt to keep it away. ‘Want to finger you.’

‘It’ll take too long,’ Derek growled, grabbing the lube and admiring the length of Stiles’ cock as he got his own fingers wet. He knelt over him, easing two fingers in and resting his other hand on Stiles’ chest and toying with the small patch of hair as he worked himself open. Satisfied he could take it, he eased his fingers out and then lined Stiles up, using the residual lube on his hand to slick Stiles’ cock up. It felt thick and hard in his hand, velvet soft skin over steel, and his fangs dropped as he eased himself down. His body resisted for only a moment before it opened up and Stiles’ cock slid home. 

‘Oh, fuck me.’ He was panting again, chest rising and falling rapidly under Derek’s hand. ‘God, you feel so fucking good.’

‘Yeah?’ Derek was almost drowning in his scent. He eased up, the slick slide of Stiles’ cock breaking through all his control and his eyes lit up. He saw them reflected in Stiles’ dark irises and the delirious smile that crossed his face as he stared at Derek. 

‘Damn.’ He ran his hands up Derek’s thighs. ‘That’s fucking hot.’ 

‘Mmm.’ Derek was quickly getting non-verbal. He started to move, thighs flexing as he lifted and dropped in a graceful rhythm. He hadn’t done this in a while but it was better than he ever remembered it being. He tipped his head back, watching the lights overhead start to flicker madly. ‘That you?’

‘Can’t help it.’ Stiles moaned. ‘It’s like you and the eyes.’ He planted his feet into the mattress and started to thrust up, meeting Derek halfway. The sound of their bodies impacting was loud, tempered only by their harsh breathing. 

‘Yeah, come on.’ Derek sped up, starting to bounce hard on Stiles’ cock and changing the angle so it nailed him right where he wanted. ‘Just like that.’ 

‘Jesus.’ Stiles’ nails dug into his sides. ‘Fuck, I’m going to come.’ He thumped his head back against the bed. ‘Son of a fucking bitch!’ 

Derek’s claws came out and he fell forward, one hand next to Stiles’ head as he pushed back into every hard thrust. He was so close, his cock practically drooling as he took himself in hand and started stroking. It was enough to drive him up and up and over, roaring at the ceiling as he came in thick stripes across Stiles’ stomach and all the way up onto his chest. His body bore down around Stiles’ cock and the Spark yelled, the bulb overhead exploding in a shower of sparks that rained down around them and left them in the dark. 

Derek laughed, riding his orgasm out until his own body was shaking with effort. Then he fell forward, effectively squashing Stiles and getting an undignified noise for his trouble. 

‘Fucking hell,’ he muttered into Derek’s chest. ‘That was fucking awesome.’

‘Yeah.’ Derek nuzzled Stiles’ sweaty hair. He could hear people yelling below them and picked up the general gist of the complaints. ‘But I think you shorted out the whole building.’

Stiles wheezed a laugh and pawed feebly at Derek’s back.

‘Worth it,’ he said and Derek buried his face in Stiles’ neck and snickered.


	6. The Apartment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two heads are better than one when it comes to investigating.

Morning came too soon and with an off key rendition of Der Kommisar from Stiles as he did something in the kitchen that smelled delicious, singing along to the radio. Derek’s stomach growled loudly as he turned over, stretching and settling back into the sheets. The whole bed stank of sex and was stained with come, Stiles ozone body odour saturated right through. He smiled and rolled onto one elbow to see what the Spark was doing. 

Stiles was in undone jeans, shirtless and showing off the livid marks that dotted his neck and shoulders. It had been good to cut loose and Stiles, it transpired, had been with wolves before and was more than happy to be marked up, come on and licked all over. They’d gone another three rounds after and Stiles had spread his legs for Derek as well, moaning shamelessly when he got fucked into the mattress. He inhaled, taking in the scent of eggs and sausage and fresh bread. He wasn’t one for cooking and the simple breakfast smelled incredible to him. Stiles caught him looking and smiled, his eyes a warm amber in the light coming through the windows.

‘Guten morgen, Herr Wolf.’ His scent and voice were layered with amusement and affection and Derek was mildly horrified to find that the feeling was mutual. 

‘You have a terrible singing voice,’ he said and Stiles laughed and tipped the contents of the pan he was holding onto the plates already laid out on the table. 

‘Stop bitching and get your furry ass over here.’ He set the pan down and went to get the French press already prepped on the counter. Derek eased himself to the side of the bed and got up, stretching again and feeling the wonderful sense of well being that came from fucking and being fucked all night. He strolled over to the table not bothering with clothes, and took a seat. The scramble had onions and mushrooms in it as well and his mouth watered as Stiles poured the coffee and then grabbed the dark rye bread and a glass bowl of butter and added them to the already cluttered table. All his silverware had marks on them from what looked like Berlin’s finest hotels and his tableware was all mismatched. It suited him perfectly and Derek leaned his chin on his hand and regarded the man he’d spent the night with. In the morning light, Stiles looked even paler than normal. His moles were scattered across his cheeks, neck and torso in tantalising little clusters and Derek had a happy flashback of tracing them with his tongue. The trio that marked the inside of Stiles left thigh right up near his balls had been a wonderful discovery and his cock responded as he considered just sweeping everything off the table and blowing Stiles right there. 

‘Stop it,’ Stiles admonished, his smile was as flirtatious as ever. ‘I can hear you thinking.’

‘So?’ Derek fished a piece of sausage out with his fingers and ate it, licking the grease off with exaggerated movements while he locked eyes with him. The spike of arousal in Stiles’ scent was a dead giveaway and Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. 

‘You’re dangerous man, Derek Hale,’ he muttered, blushing to the roots of his messy hair. It was completely at odds with his normal confidence and Derek was dying to know how else he could make him blush. 

‘In more ways than one,’ he replied, picking up his fork and digging into the food. ‘This is good.’

‘I’ll make someone a very good mate one day,’ Stiles snickered, his mouth full as he spread a layer of butter close to an inch thick on his slice of bread. It was a playful statement but its effect on Derek was surprising. Werewolves didn’t mate for life like their animal counterparts, but they were monogamous and he would have been lying if the thought of having Stiles in his bed and in his den didn’t set off some weird instinct. He let his eyes fix on the marks on Stiles’ neck, before they drifted down his body to pert pink nipples and the small smattering of dark hairs on Stiles’ chest. He was elegantly built, more for speed than strength although he’d certainly given Derek a good fight the night before. He’d make a good partner in more ways than one. 

‘What are you doing today?’ he found himself asking and Stiles raised an eyebrow at him. 

‘I was kind of hoping for an action replay,’ he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. ‘I didn’t get to suck your cock last night and I was kind of wondering if that could be a thing.’

Derek gave him a toothy grin. His cock was already on its way to being hard and he reached down and gave himself a couple of slow strokes, tracking the way Stiles’ eyes followed the movement of his arm and how his mouth dropped open. 

‘Finish your breakfast first,’ he ordered. ‘We’ve got shit to do this morning, then we’ll see. If you behave yourself, I’ll fuck your mouth when we get back.’

Stiles’ cheeks went pink again and he dived right in, muttering about arrogant wolves and their power trips. Derek chuckled and followed suit. After breakfast, Stiles dug out some Levis and a t-shirt from his boxes of black market clothes and Derek got dressed, throwing his suit jacket over the t-shirt and also stealing a pair of what looked like combat issue boots from another box. 

‘Army surplus.’ Stiles was watching him, also dressed. ‘The Soviets make shit cars but good boots. So, where exactly are we going?’

‘To break into my sister’s apartment,’ Derek said. ‘I need to see if I can find anything that will point me in the right direction. Braeden told me that she was seeing someone, but she hadn’t told me about them and that is very fucking out of character for Laura.’

‘Yeah?’ Stiles came over, his eyes alight with curiosity. ‘She never told me either.’

‘You never saw her with anyone?’ Derek asked, spreading his knees and running his hands up the back of Stiles’ thighs when he stepped between them. Neither of them had bothered to shower and the smell of their combined scents was delicious. 

‘No.’ Stiles was frowning. ‘Unless she didn’t want me to know. Laura was pretty private.’ 

‘I’m guessing you know the story.’ Derek looked up at him and Stiles nodded. 

‘Everyone in the intelligence community knows the story,’ he said and his sympathy was sincere. ‘It was shitty thing that happened to you. I lost my mom when I was sixteen. I know how that broke me up. I can’t imagine how hard it was to lose your whole pack.’

‘Not the whole pack,’ Derek sighed. ‘But yeah, it was hard.’ It didn’t help that he still felt guilty all these years later. 

‘And now with Laura…’ Stiles trailed off, gently running his fingers through Derek’s hair. ‘It’s just you and Peter.’

Derek didn’t comment on that. Cora’s identity had been changed after the fire and she was safely tucked away with pack in South America and they all had high hopes that she would be the one to have a normal life. 

‘If I can have a look around, I can probably find something,’ he said. 

‘Okay, but I don’t know what you’ll find,’ Stiles was sceptical. ‘They’ve probably already been through it.’

‘Not with this.’ Derek tapped the side of his nose. ‘And I knew Laura better than anyone. If she hid something, I’ll find it.’

‘Then let’s go.’ Stiles stepped away from him. ‘You need anything?’

‘No.’ Derek had come out unarmed, not wanting to draw trouble the night before. Stiles gave him a crooked grin. 

‘I bet that all counts as a deadly weapon.’ He waved a hand at Derek. He laughed and held up a hand, flicking out his claws.

‘These certainly do,’ he said and Stiles looked at them with unbridled fascination. 

‘Can I?’ he asked and Derek let him take his hand, running a thumb over the edge of one claw and testing how they came out the tips of his fingers. ‘That’s so cool.’

Derek let his eyes light up slowly and Stiles lifted him other hand to Derek’s face, thumb running along the line of Derek’s jaw. Derek waited until it was in proximity and caught it between his teeth, growling softly and seeing how Stiles’ eyes darkened. 

‘We’ll never get out of here if you keep doing shit like that,’ he breathed and Derek licked the thumb in his mouth for good measure and let him go, slapping him on the ass when Stiles turned around. 

‘Get moving then.’ He got up and followed him out the apartment, watching as Stiles activated the wards. He wasn’t used to this kind of magic. Sparks had the distinction of being their magic rather than just using the forces around them like druids or witches. Each Spark’s magic was unique to them, and he wondered just what Stiles would be capable of. 

‘You like that?’ Stiles was grinning. He lifted his hand and wriggles those long fingers that had worked an altogether different kind of magic on him the night before. ‘I don’t use it as much as I could. Don’t want to draw attention when I can do things the normal way.’

‘Nothing we do is normal,’ Derek huffed. 

They took the Porsche and there was another breakneck drive through town. Stiles parked a good five blocks from where Laura’s apartment was, a place of former glory but now run down and graffitied. She’d had a river view, just like her loft in New York. They entered through a courtyard and Derek followed Stiles up to the top floor. The blue and white tape of the West Berlin police was still stuck across the door and Derek extended a claw and cut though it before setting his shoulder against the lock and pushing just hard enough until he felt it give and then worked it loose. He opened the door to an admiring look from Stiles, who swanned in ahead of him like he’d been there a thousand times before. Given his relationship with Laura, and there had never been a hint of a lie when he spoke of her, he probably had. 

Derek closed the door behind them and breathed in deeply. The whole place still smelled like her, her perfume and her own scent embedded into everything. It hit him hard for a moment before he pulled himself together and started looking around. 

‘Everyone’s been through here, I reckon.’ Stiles nudged an overturned chair with his toe. It certainly looked that way, a miasma of scents overlaying Laura’s and the whole place turned upside down. 

Derek walked past him into the living room, lifting his head and opening his mouth to scent the placed properly, drawing the air in and closing his eyes as he catalogued what he could smell. Laura was there and there was a hint of Stiles, the rancid stink of unwashed Stasi and the typical smell of police and forensics. 

‘Anything?’ Stiles was now next to him, amber eyes sharp. 

‘Just what you’d expect,’ Derek replied. 

‘So what are we looking for?’ Stiles asked and Derek turned his head in the direction of another doorway. He went to it, stepping over the threshold of Laura’s bedroom. Her bed was a mess of sheets and a velvet coverlet and he allowed himself a moment’s sentimentality, picking it up and burying his nose in it. At first he smelled only her and then something else filtered through and every fibre of his being froze in horror. He’d smelled that scent before, knew it intimately. It had been the scent of the first woman he’d ever fucked, fourteen years old and unschooled. She’d been his substitute teacher and she’d seduced him inside of a month. Three more passed and she used everything he’d told her to burn down his house with his whole pack inside it. He and Laura and Cora had been at summer camp and so survived. Peter had been inside when it had happened, but it would take a nuclear winter to eliminate him and he’d live, although he’d been in a coma for six months and not quite right when he’d woken up. 

This woman was the Jaguar. He knew the name of the most feared and hated black operative the world had ever seen. 

He breathed in once more and realised that there was a new element to the scent that hadn’t been there when he’d known her. It was wild, savage and he knew why, breaking into a strangled laugh when he realised what it was. She’d hated weres, in fact it had been the primary motive for the murders she had committed. How ironic to think that she was now one of them. No wonder they called her the Jaguar.

‘Derek?’ Stiles was in the doorway. ‘Are you all right?’

‘No.’ He set the cover back down, his eyes flaring in his rage. ‘I’m so far from all right that I might need to kill someone very fucking soon.’

‘Jesus.’ There was trepidation in Stiles’ scent. ‘What the fuck happened?’

‘I got what I came for,’ Derek murmured and then looked up with a growl as he heard the distant sound of cars approaching. ‘Shit. The cops are here.’

‘Fuck.’ Stiles became alert, his eyes flashing for a second. ‘We were followed?’

‘More than likely.’ Derek tilted his head, tracking the sound of doors slamming and the pounding of feet. ‘Nine of them. Get out of here, I’ll take care of it.’

‘Not a fucking chance,’ Stiles snorted. ‘I’m not leaving you here to have all the fun by yourself.’ 

‘Don’t be an asshole,’ Derek snapped. ‘I’ve got this.’

‘You clearly have trust issues, and believe me so do I,’ Stiles replied. ‘But I like to think I’m a fairly good judge of character.’ He grinned. ‘And I hope that I was a good enough fuck that you won’t want to kill me just yet.’ 

Derek met his eyes and he’d never felt the aching loneliness like he did at that moment. Wolves were not meant to be alone but he and Laura and Peter had been little more than omegas until Laura had built her pack. Even then, Derek hadn’t let himself get pulled in, hadn’t trusted anyone but her. Now she was dead, and he had nobody to trust. Maybe he needed to take the hand that was being offered. 

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘But you let me lead on this. They’ve got guns and you’re still human enough to die if you get shot.’ 

‘Fine.’ Stiles stepped back and smiled at him. ‘Let’s see what you’ve got big guy.’

Derek rolled his eyes at him and left him in the bedroom. He stopped at the wall separating the living area from the front hallway, pressing himself against the wall. He listened to the police making their ascent and scanned the room. There was a stereo on the cabinet next to him and he turned it on, cranking up the volume. George Michael’s voice filled the space and heard the men on the stairs stop. He took the opportunity to go to the front door and peer out, spotting the yellow fire hose with it’s metal fixture on the end lying next to the door, grabbing it and retreating inside before the men could spot him.

‘What are you doing with that?’ Stiles hissed and Derek glared at him and pointed in the direction of the bedroom. Stiles made an annoyed face at him but he disappeared back around the corner and Derek moved to his hiding place and waited, wrapping a couple of coils around his upper body and getting a good grip on the rest. 

The door creaked open, audible to Derek’s wolf ears in spite of the music. He breathed in and out steadily, his heart rate slowing as he went into the zone of perfect calm he felt when he fought. Four steps past the front door and the first man was barely a foot away. Derek could smell the leather of their shoes, the guns they carried, the traces of coffee and cheap food. He waited until the first man started to enter the room and swung the hose. It caught the man in the throat and Derek grabbed him, spinning the man to bring his arm up, the gun he held pointed back at his colleagues. He swung the loops quicker than the human eye could track, knocking the next man over and then recoiling to yank the first man back in, his fist colliding with the man’s face and crunching through bone with the force of the blow, dropping him in time to aim a solid kick at the second man’s jaw as he got onto his hands and knees. The man went back down and Derek moved quickly, soundless on his feet as he circled around behind the next two, bringing the looped hose down around the neck of one and hauling back hard enough that the man’s neck broke with a loud snap. The other spun, weapon raised and poised to shoot. Derek threw himself forward, rolling over and to his feet quick enough to wrap the hose around the man’s wrist and snap it, his elbow colliding with the man’s nose hard enough that he was knocked back and went down. 

Two more came in with electric batons in their hands, standard issue for dealing with werewolves. Derek leaped back through the door to the kitchen, grabbing the pot still on the counter and hurling with with deadly accuracy so it hit the first one right in the face. He yelled in pain, blood pouring from his nose and Derek grabbed him by the collar and threw him clear across the kitchen into the wall. He fell in a heap and didn’t get up again, leaving Derek to spin around and kick out the next man’s knees, then shove him against the wall next to the fridge. He slammed the freezer door open into the man’s face and a second body joined the first. 

The next three were easy to dispatch. They came at him all at once and he went on autopilot, using his claws to cut them down, his speed and strength no match for them until they were scattered at his feet. He stood there, his breathing elevated but not enough to slow him down. 

‘You done?’ Stiles was peering around the corner. He surveyed the carnage and beamed at Derek. ‘I think I fucking love you.’

‘There’s still two more,’ Derek replied but even as he said that, they came bursting through the door. He was about to charge but Stiles beat him to it, coming to stand in front of him with one hand raised. Purple lightning rippled along his arm and shot out from his hand, taking hold of the two men and making them spasm like marionettes being made to dance. They eventually fell to the ground, their clothes smoking and Stiles laughed, the lighting dying from his hand. He looked at Derek, his eyes glowing. 

‘I’d say we make a pretty good pair,’ he chuckled. ‘Now, I think we should get the fuck out of here before we get caught with our proverbial pants down.’ 

‘Agreed,’ Derek said and led the way out the apartment and down the stairs. They jogged out the courtyard, and Stiles pulled him into an alleyway as more police cars sped by, sirens blaring. 

‘We seem to be very popular,’ he remarked. ‘May I suggest that we lie low for a while or at least until dark.’

‘Until dark.’ Derek glanced at him. ‘However will we occupy ourselves until then?’

‘I can think of few ideas,’ Stiles replied, coming to back him up against the alleyway wall before he kissed him. Derek kissed him back, one hand at the side of Stiles’ neck and the other arm wrapping around him. Up close like this, Stiles’ magic was like the air at the height of a storm and it was easily the best thing he’d ever smelled. He pressed his advantage and Stiles relented, opening his mouth to him and letting Derek in. 

They kissed until the sirens faded out, then Stiles pulled back. 

‘What is this?’ he breathed, his heart pounding in a delirious rhythm that matched Derek’s own. He said nothing though, not trusting himself to speak. Instead, he took Stiles’ hand and led him out into the dull November light, walking back to the car.


	7. Der Urwald

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to start making plans to catch a Jaguar.

They ended up back in Stiles’s bed. Derek was on his stomach smoking while Stiles sat on his ass and traced the lines of the triskelion between his shoulder blades. The sweat was still drying on their skin and the very air seemed to be charged. It was nice, the silence between them not oppressive or laced with a desperate need to get out the place as fast as possible. Derek wasn’t usually one to linger after sex, usually getting his pants back on as quickly as possible. 

Stiles ran both hands down either side of his spine and pressed down with all his weight, making Derek groan into the bed. It had been forever since someone had touched him this level of intimacy and it felt good. 

‘Can I ask you something?’ Stiles’ voice was considering. 

‘Depends on what it is.’ Derek mumbled, arching up into those clever hands and the way they were kneading his muscles. 

‘How old were you when you got into the life?’ Stiles asked, working his trapezius muscles like a pro. Derek grunted and tried to shrug but it was just a little aborted movement because he was busy turning into a puddle. 

‘Sixteen, the same as Laura.’ he replied. ‘Peter got custody of me and Laura after the fire, but he was too injured to do anything and so we ended up with Chris taking care of almost everything. He had us in an apartment by ourselves because Laura was the alpha, but once Peter woke up it was clear that the program was pretty much the safest place for us so we joined up.’ He tried not to think about what had happened. Chris had never known about the real culprit that had set the fire. Derek had never told anyone apart from Peter. Not even Laura had known. 

Peter had gone looking for her once he was recovered and back on field work. Derek knew he’d scoured every dank hole he could get into looking for her, but he’d lost her in South America. Then had come the report that she had been killed and they’d both breathed a sigh of relief. Derek should have known that it was too good to be true. Now it looked like the same woman who’d ruined his life had risen from the dead and taken out his sister. He felt a rush of anger and growled into his folded arms. Stiles stopped his massage and sat back. 

‘You okay down there?’ he asked and there was concern in his voice. He wasn’t stupid and Derek knew that Stiles had picked up on the fact that he’d learned something from the apartment and wasn’t telling him. He hadn’t pressed him though, and the soft sigh told Derek that he wasn’t going to either. 

‘I was thirteen when I got conscripted.’ His hands were moving again. Derek raised his head, trying to look at him over his shoulder. 

‘But…’ He frowned. ‘You were just a kid.’

‘A special kid.’ Stiles snorted. ‘Concessions are made when you’re the magical equivalent of an armed nuclear device. They took me from my home and put me in Eichen House.’

‘Eichen House.’ Now Derek did turn over, toppling Stiles into the sheets. ‘I thought that place was a fucking myth.’

‘No.’ Stiles looked up at him, his mouth twisted. The bitterness in his face was a shock to see. ‘It’s where they take all the really special little kids and turn them into killers.’

‘Fuck.’ Derek didn’t know what to say. ‘That sounds really shitty.’

‘It was.’ Stiles sat up, wrapping his arms around himself in a defensive gesture that made Derek want to protect the hell out of him. ‘They used to wake us up in the middle of the night, drag us from our beds for desensitization.’

Derek was appalled. He’d been through that process - the cold water immersion, the exposure to light and sound without a break for hours. He’d been starved and beaten and psychologically and physically tortured all in the name of training. It had been hard enough at eighteen when he was drafted into the CIA, but to think of doing that to children Cora’s age was unconscionable. 

‘I’m sorry.’ It was the only response he could give. 

‘My mom died when I was sixteen.’ Stiles told him, watching him carefully with guarded eyes. ‘I burned the whole fucking place down when I found out. They never let me see her and I never got to say goodbye.’ He reached up, hand to Derek’s face. ‘But I guess you know how that feels. Not getting to say goodbye.’ 

There was only honesty in those brown eyes and his heartbeat was as steady as any Derek had ever heard. He took a deep breath and decided to take a chance. 

‘I know who killed Laura.’ he said and Stiles gave him a half-smile. 

‘Yeah.’ He raised an eyebrow at Derek. ‘It was the Jaguar. Did I miss something?’

‘No.’ Derek said. ‘I mean I know who the Jaguar is.’

Stiles’ eyes went impossibly wide, his heart taking off as he sat bolt upright. 

‘Fuck off.’ he breathed. ‘You know?’

‘I smelled her on Laura’s bed.’ Derek replied. ‘I recognised her scent.’

‘But how?’ Stiles frowned, a little line between his eyebrows. He scratched at his head. ‘Who is she?’

‘You need to promise me you’re not going to freak out.’ Derek growled. ‘Or go off half-cocked. She’s fucking dangerous and even more so because she’s been turned.’

‘Okay.’ Stiles was all seriousness. ‘Who is she Derek?’

‘How much do you know about what happened to my family?’ Derek asked. ‘Judging from your apparent relationship with my uncle and the fact that I’ve just found out that your a supernatural that’s so fucking powerful you were drafted into a place that’s used as a scary story for other supernaturals, I’m guessing your clearance level is way above mine.’

‘I know that your family was taken out.’ Stiles. ‘The arson was just a cover story.’

‘Do you know who?’ Derek asked and to his surprise, Stiles shook his head. 

‘All I know is that she was part of the agency.’ He shifted, his hand finding Derek’s. ‘I know that when he found her, Peter killed her. Apart from that, everything was sealed.’ 

‘Derek was so taken aback, he couldn’t speak for a few moments. 

‘Peter killed her?’ He shook his head. ‘No, that’s not right.’

‘I saw the report.’ Stiles replied. ‘The names were redacted but he killed her. They covered it all up because of the security breach and the fact that she was a field agent with like a gazillion kills to her name that turned on her own and started killing every supernatural she could get her hands on. She was mentally ill, Derek. Psychotic. Your family wasn’t the only one either, although you probably didn’t know that.’

‘No.’ Derek was starting to realise he knew very little. He’d thought it was a secret but maybe it wasn’t. Maybe he really had only been a means to an end like Peter had told him he was. 

‘Who is she?’ Stiles leaned into his line of sight. ‘Derek? Who killed your family?’

Derek looked at him and took a deep breath, preparing to tell his secret to the second person he’d told in his entire life. 

‘Kate Argent.’ he said and waited for the inevitable disbelief. Once her death had been confirmed, they’d made it look like she’d died in the line of duty and given her a burial with full military honours. It had made him sick to hear how she was being treated like a hero after what she had done, blaming himself for not having the guts to expose her.

‘Shit.’ Stiles was clearly thinking hard. ‘She was the one who did it?’

Derek nodded, his heart thudding as the old sense of panic came back to him whenever he thought about it. 

‘But, she wouldn’t have been able to if I hadn’t helped her.’ he confessed. ‘I’m the one that gave her an in. I told her about us, gave her intel on the house and when we would be there.’ 

‘And how did she get you to do that, Derek?’ Stiles’s voice had dropped to a dangerous low, but Derek could tell the anger wasn’t directed at him. ‘You were what? Fifteen?’

‘Fourteen.’ he clarified. ‘And I was stupid. I let my dick do the thinking and my pack paid the price.’

‘Holy shit.’ Stiles’ eyes flashed and the ozone scent got stronger. Across from the bed, the television screen started to break into static. ‘She fucked you to get to your family?’

‘Yeah.’ Derek sighed. ‘She did. And now it turns out that she’s not as dead as I thought she was. Not only that, but she seems to have done the same fucking thing to my sister.’

‘Christ.’ Stiles was horrified, the emotion making his scent sour. ‘Jesus fuck, where do I even start.’

‘You don’t.’ Derek told him. ‘I’m going after her. You can take the List but I’m not going anywhere until I do what I came to do and kill the fucking bitch.’

‘Then let me help you.’ Stiles insisted. ‘You’re going to need someone who’s got your back if you’re taking her on. She killed Laura, and I would have sworn they hadn’t made the agent that could take your sister out.’

Derek looked at him for a long time and then nodded. 

‘Okay, but we’ll need to make a stop first.’ he said. 

*************

They went out only once it was starting to get dark. Derek directed Stiles to the arcade where the watch shop was, then gout out. He leaned back in the door and raised a warning finger. 

‘Stay here,’ he ordered. ‘This man doesn’t know you and I don’t want him getting cold feet.’

Stiles made a rude noise and gave him the finger. 

‘Whatever, Sauerwolf.’ He said the word with the hard German pronunciation. ‘I still say we’d be better off using one of my connections.’

‘I don’t trust your connections,’ Derek replied. ‘Just because we fucked and I’m letting you help, doesn’t mean I’m going to give away all my advantages.’

‘Keep telling yourself that.’ Stiles’ grin was infuriating. ‘Admit it, I’m starting to grow on you.’

‘Yeah, well so would fungus if I let it.’ Derek huffed and slammed the door, getting a tirade of abuse from inside the Porsche. He returned the middle finger as he strode past the car and grinned when he heard the muttered insults. As much as he hated to admit it, Stiles was growing on him. The little fucker was smart as a whip, funny and irreverent and he was making Derek smile. Laura was no doubt rolling in her casket.

He walked briskly along the line of shops, opening the door and going inside the dimly lit shop. The man was right where he’d been the day before. Only the fact that he’d changed his shirt indicated that he’d moved at all. This time though, he lifted his head and gave Derek a piercing look, his eyes bright and black and reminding Derek of a shrike. 

‘Your watch is on the counter in a plain envelope,’ he told him. ‘I think you’ll find that contact very useful.’

Derek gave him a nod of thanks and took the envelope. He pocketed it and left the shop, trotting back down to the waiting Porsche. As he got in, Stiles nodded in front of them. 

‘Your tail’s back.’ he remarked and Derek frowned as he peered through the windscreen and saw a BMW superbike roaring around a corner in front of them. 

‘What do you know about Braeden?’ he asked and Stiles laughed out loud. 

‘That she’s hard as nails and would sell you to the highest bidder as soon as look at you.’ he replied, starting the car. ‘She’s a merc. That means no loyalty and no idea whose side she’s on.’

‘She was equally complimentary about you.’ Derek smirked. ‘You step on each other’s toes?’

‘Once.’ Stiles grumbled. ‘And she nearly shot my ear off for it.’ He pulled out into traffic and gave Derek a sidelong glance. ‘You like her?’

‘She’s not really my style.’ Derek was pleased when the tart scent of jealousy hit his nose. ‘My tastes seem to be running more towards assholes with far too much intelligence for their own good.’

‘Ha!’ Stiles’ smile was blinding. ‘Just for that, I’m taking you to dinner. I’d ask if you like sausage, but I’m pretty sure I’ve already sussed that one out.’

‘Christ.’ Derek leaned his head back against the headrest. ‘Why the fuck do I even like you?’

‘Because I made you come so hard that you clawed a huge fucking hole in my mattress.’ Stiles told him around the cigarette he was trying to light while driving and waving his lighter at Derek at the same time. ‘Which you will be compensating me for, by the way.’

‘Take it out of your expenses.’ Derek reached over and slid a hand up the inside of Stiles’ thigh. He hadn’t felt like this in years. He kept his hand high, settled where he could feel the flex of Stiles’ muscles as he changed gears. 

Stiles took him to a bar, full of working class men and serving excellent beer and steak tartare with deep fried triangles of rough black bread. Derek ordered a triple portion and ploughed his way through it, ignoring Stiles look of clear disgust at the fact that he was eating raw meat. He chuckled and kicked him under the table, scooping up a heaped fork and holding it out. 

‘Come on, try it,’ he said. ‘Don’t be such an American.’

‘You know that’s a heart attack on a plate, right?’ Stiles wrinkled his nose. ‘Not to mention, it’s fucking not cooked.’

‘That’s why it’s yummy.’ Derek ate the forkful and closed his eyes in bliss, making exaggerated happy noises. 

‘I can’t believe you just used the word yummy,’ Stiles snorted, eating his own far more sensible wurst and boiled potatoes. ‘So what’s our plan?

‘Braeden told me she has a friend who runs a club.’ Derek said and he nodded. 

‘Der Urwald.’ he said. ‘I know it. Danny DJs there sometimes.’ 

‘Danny?’ Derek asked and Stiles looked shifty for a moment. 

‘He’s someone I know,’ he eventually said. There was a tiny blip in his heart beat and Derek raised his eyebrows at him. That made Stiles scowl and huff in annoyance. ‘Fine, he was someone I fucked occasionally and who helps me sell on the other side. I hate you fucking furry lie detectors, I really fucking do.’

‘He was someone you fucked or is someone you fuck?’ Derek was curious. 

‘He’s not someone I fuck anymore.’ Stiles was now squirming. When he lifted his head, there was a faint gleam of hope in his warm brown eyes. ‘That’s why I didn’t want to say. Not if that’s going to fuck things up. I know wolves prefer doing things one on one and I’m happy to do that. At least until you drop my ass once this is finished and fuck off to wherever you’re going to go.’

That gave Derek pause for thought. He hadn’t really considered what would happen afterwards, which was out of character for him. Stiles had his head turned so far around that he was actually considering how they could keep whatever that was going. 

‘I usually don’t do tomorrows.’ he said slowly and Stiles visibly deflated. For someone who made his living from espionage, he wore his heart right out in the open and that made Derek want to give him anything he wanted. 

‘I understand.’ he replied, his voice miserable. ‘Just a job, right?’

‘No.’ Derek sighed and reached for his hand. ‘Look, I’m fucking awful at this. I’m closed off and fucked up and broken so badly, I have no idea how to even connect with anyone. But you make me want to try.’

It was the most honest he’d ever been with anyone and that surprised the hell out of him when he realised he was telling the truth. He looked up and saw Stiles staring at him, his mouth dropped open and his eyes sparkling. 

‘Really?’ he turned his hand over so their fingers could link. ‘Because you’re talking to the poster boy for abandonment issues here. Don’t fuck me around.’

‘How long is your assignment here?’ Derek asked, thinking of his promise to Scott and the rest of Laura’s pack. 

‘If we catch the Jaguar and bring back the list, I’m pretty sure I could write my own assignments.’ Stiles replied. 

‘You ever been to New York?’ Derek asked and he shook his head. 

‘No.’ he was a little breathless and Derek could hear how hard his heart was thumping, like it wanted to jump right out of his chest. ‘Could you show me?’

‘Yeah.’ Derek lifted Stiles’ hand, brushing his lips across the scarred knuckles, wondering how Stiles had gotten the marks. ‘I could.’

************

Der Urwald was a post-apocalyptic basement club with blue lights and a concrete topped bar. It was full, bodies twisting and gyrating to the music and the stink of pheromones in the air. Derek was pleased he’d left his jacket in the car, following Stiles into the sweaty morass of bodies with his hand held securely in Stiles’.

They got through the dance floor and Stiles nodded up at the DJ box, perched precariously above the crowd. There was a young man inside, earphone around his neck and wearing a sheer net shirt that showcased a ripped torso and skin smeared with glitter. He was extremely attractive, deep dimples appearing when Stiles waved up at him. Derek felt a surge of jealousy at Stiles’ answering smile but stamped all over it. 

‘Come on!’ Stiles yelled over the music and went to the ladder that led up to where Danny was. Derek raised his eyebrows at that but followed anyway, taking the time to ogle Stiles’s ass as they got to the top and climbed into the DJ box with Danny. 

‘Hey.’ He embraced Stiles, far too familiar for Derek’s liking. ‘You been gone for a couple of days. I was starting to get worried.’ He looked past him to Derek interest all over his face. ‘Who’s this.’

‘He’s my cousin, Miguel.’ Stiles said with a wicked grin and Danny rolled his eyes. 

‘Uh huh.’ His grinned at Derek. ‘He’s cute. You want to share?’

Derek was taken aback but also territorial and he flashed his eyes, pleased at how Danny leaned away from him, his heart picking up in fear. 

‘Jesus, Stiles.’ He was edging away. ‘You bought a wolf?’

‘So what?’ Stiles was defensive. ‘You’re the one who’s fucking a kanima.’

‘Okay, firstly Jackson is better,’ Danny retorted. ‘Secondly, an alpha wolf is not going to go unnoticed around these parts.’

‘I know,’ Stiles huffed. ‘Look, we came to find Braeden. You seen her around tonight?’

‘Not so far,’ Danny replied, giving Derek another wary look. Derek glared back and bared his teeth at him. He didn’t like the way Danny was being overprotective of Stiles and his wolf was itching to get Stiles somewhere he could rub the man’s scent off and replace it with his own. 

‘Okay, thanks.’ Stiles started to move and Danny caught his arm. 

‘What are you into?’ he asked and Stiles’ glanced at Derek and then shook his head. 

‘You’d best stay out of it.’ he finally said. ‘It’s hot.’

‘Hot enough to get you killed?’ Danny’s concern was obvious. ‘I’d hate to lose my business partner.’ 

‘It’s not something for you to worry about, man,’ Stiles told him. ‘Trust me, you don’t want to know.’

‘Fine.. But if you need us, you know where to find us,’ Danny said. He looked at Derek. ‘Even if your wolf looks like he wants to fuck me up.’

Derek growled to underline that yes, he would in fact fuck him up, and then winced when Stiles elbowed him hard in the ribs. 

‘Cut it out, big guy.’ he said, but there was humour underneath. ‘And I will.’ He took Derek’s hand and towed him back to the ladder, shooing him down first and then falling off as he came down afterwards. Thankfully Derek was already on his feet and he caught Stiles before he hit the floor, getting a round of applause from a group standing nearby.

‘How the hell are you this clumsy.’ he asked, setting Stiles on his feet. ‘You are literally a secret agent.’

‘I have other talents.’ Stiles was grinning madly. ‘You were kind of growly up there. It was kind of hot, but I have to tell you I’m not into watersports.’ 

‘Fuck you, Stiles.’ Derek snarled but all he got was a laugh and then Stiles was dragging him onto the dance floor and that was all they said for a few hours. 

Stiles danced with the same frenetic energy that he did everything else, his body moving to a rhythm that shouldn’t have worked but did. His hands were everywhere, sliding up Derek’s arms and across his chest, round to his ass where they squeezed just enough to make him hard. He got pulled in and pushed away as Stiles gave him seductive smile after seductive smile, turning to rub himself up against Derek until his wolf snapped and he grabbed Stiles by the wrist and towed him towards the men’s room.

Once inside he slammed him up against the wall next to the door, ignoring the other men in there as he kissed him. It turned fevered and open mouthed almost instantly, and Derek could smell how close Stiles was already, how wet his cock was and the fresh sweat all over him. It was intoxicating and he pulled back long enough to yank Stiles away from the wall and almost throw him into the nearest cubicle, slamming the door shut and locking it before he was on his knees. 

‘Fuck, Derek…’ Stiles already panting, and not just from the dancing. His fingers tangled in Derek’s hair, hips jerking as Derek got his belt undone and opened his jeans, yanking them down around his thighs before burying his face in Stiles’ crotch, breathing him in in greedy inhales. His own cock was stupidly hard and he took a moment to get it out before going back to his objective, dragging his tongue up Stiles’ cock and then taking him down easily. 

‘Christ.’ Stiles was making abortive little thrusts into his mouth. ‘Shit, this is going to literally take minutes.’ He tightened his fingers in Derek’s hair, his taste clean and bitter on Derek’s tongue and Derek moaned around him. He quickened his own hand, stroking hard and fast just the way he liked it while pulling back to use his tongue around the head of Stiles’ cock while he looked up and locked eyes with him, letting his irises bleed red just to feel Stiles shudder. 

‘Come on.’ he breathed, hand working Stiles’ cock. ‘I want you to fuck my mouth.’

‘Jesus.’ Stiles choked out and then he was grabbing Derek’s hair and shoving himself back in, moving faster and choking Derek on his cock, making him dizzy with lust and oxygen deprivation. He barely made it another minute before his own climax hit with all the speed of an out of control train, and he was coming all over his own hand. Stiles jerked hard once and then he was following, flooding Derek’s mouth and groaning like he was dying. Derek pinned his hips, gripping him hard enough to bruise and swallowed it all. When Stiles finally quieted, he licked him clean and got him back in his jeans. 

‘Damn.’ Stiles gave him a hazy smile and helped him to his feet. ‘I think you sucked my brain out through my dick.’

‘What brain?’ Derek asked with a sickly sweet smile and Stiles snorted loudly, the laugh echoing off the tiled wall. 

‘Asshole.’ He grabbed Derek by the back of the neck and dragged him into a filthy kiss. 

They stumbled back out, getting a couple of curious looks as Derek washed his hands. They came out the bathroom and found Danny waiting for them at the bar, cigarette in his mouth and a long Russian coat on. He gave them a knowing look and started laughing. 

‘You should know better.’ he waved a finger in Stiles’ face and Stiles scowled at him. 

‘Look at him!’ He waved both hands at Derek. ‘Like you would say no.’

‘Probably not.’ Danny grinned around his cigarette. ‘Now, you going to tell me what the fuck is going on?’

‘No.’ Stiles snipped, taking Derek’s hand. ‘I’m taking him home so he can fuck me some more.’

‘Suit yourself.’ Danny called over the music, but Derek ignored him in favour of following the Spark like a love struck puppy. 

Laura would definitely have laughed her ass off at him.


	8. Allison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek makes a new contact.

Derek was up and out early the next morning, leaving a snoring Stiles behind and splayed across the bed. 

He made his way back to his hotel before dressing and taking a moment to sort through his falsified documents to find one suitable for what he was doing. He envied Laura’s ability to just wear a wig and contacts to change her appearance as he messed around with adhesive and facial hair. The moustache and wig made him look like a throwback to the early eighties, but then again it was Berlin. Then he opened the watch case and used the tools he’d brought with him in a hollowed out copy of The Catcher In The Rye to take the movement apart and find the tiny engravings on the parts that gave him a location on the other side of the wall.

He left the hotel through a side door, taking the staff stairs and going out the back of the building so nobody saw him and catching public transport to Checkpoint Charlie. He was carrying a briefcase, and he handed it over for searching as the officer checked his passport. 

‘You should have applied for a visitor’s permit,’ he stated. ‘What kind of work do you do?’

‘Legal affairs,’ Derek replied, lifting his chin as the officer held up his passport and compared the picture to him. There was something off about the man, but eventually he lowered the document and stamped it. 

‘You have until 6 o’clock.’ He handed the passport back. ‘If you fail to return, you will be arrested.’

‘I understand,’ Derek replied, taking the passport and tucking it inside his coat pocket. He picked up his briefcase and started walking, but he’d hardly gotten a hundred yards before he heard the officer speaking and stopped under the pretence of lighting a cigarette. Obviously border guards were not trained in how werewolf senses could pick up things like conversation even from a great distance. 

‘I can’t be sure, but I think it’s him.’ The officer sounded uncertain, but Derek knew that whoever he was talking to would follow up on any lead. ‘He’s heading towards Alexanderplatz.’

Swearing under his breath, Derek kept his pace casual. It would only tip anyone watching off if he started to deviate from his plan. He crossed the open stretch of concrete, all his senses on alert. 

He was about halfway across when his ears caught the sound of a car pulling up and something made him hesitate and look back over his shoulder. He saw a black Lada idling at the curb before the back door and passenger doors opened and the twins and the bald man from the cafe got out. 

‘Fuck.’ He quickened his pace, moving smoothly through the people passing him until he spotted a cinema. He immediately change tack, walking towards it as the three wolves moved to follow him. 

Inside the atrium was all marble and steel, and Derek scanned the place and then took the staircase going up to the left. The fact that his scent was hidden would mean they would have to split up to try and find him, which sat fine with him. He would struggle against three alphas, but one on one would be doable. He discarded the wig and moustache as he went, shoving them into a pocket of his coat and ducked inside the auditorium that he came to. The film was already going and he moved down the central aisle to find a seat right at the front, dropping down and listening intently. 

The bottom right emergency exit opened and Derek saw one of the twins come in. he was walking slowly, scanning the crowd for him, but Derek could tell that he hadn’t recognised him. The scent he gave off told Derek it was the twin that had been driving and he thought about Stiles and just what the Spark was capable of. He’d heard of magic that could later or removed memories. It would certainly explain who Stiles had managed to stay under the radar in Berlin for as long as he had. 

He waited for Steiner to leave via the exit at the top of the stairs and then made his move, slipping out of his seat and going through the bottom left hand exit. Once in the corridor he spotted an alarm and a coat rack, hitting the former and rifling the latter. He discarded his own coat and took a leather jacket that was slightly too long on the arms, shrugging into it as he kept walking. 

There was a door marked private and he opened it and went inside, finding himself in a storage room lined with shelves filled with film canisters and with the screen taking up the entire opposite wall. He couldn’t smell anything but as he rounded the corner, a huge hand grabbed him by his shirt and he knocked the arm up on instinct, getting a few quick blows to the bald alpha’s chest and ribs before he had a chance to wheel around. There was a ladder leaning against the wall and Derek snagged it and swung it hard so it caught the alpha on the side of the head, then ducking low and swinging it hard to take the alpha’s feet out from under him. He grabbed the nearest rack of shelves as he stood up, hauling it down so it crushed the alpha underneath and then Derek was off. 

Unfortunately he was not quick enough, coming face to face with the twins that had just come in from the other side. The one that had driven cracked his knuckles and gave him a sinister smile. 

‘You’re coming with us.’ He spoke German with the accent of a native Berliner and Derek wondered what their story was and how they had ended up in a pack run by a Russian alpha. 

‘I don’t think so,’ he replied, flicking out his claws and shifting effortlessly. The twins growled and did the same, all of them tense with anticipation. Derek snarled, baring his fangs in challenge and it prompted the driver to make a move. He was a good fighter, quick and ruthless as he went for Derek’s throat, but Derek had experience and a need to stay alive on his side and he caught the arm and twisted, getting the alpha in the flank with his claws and ripping hard. The driver gave a roar of pain and the other twin snarled and charged him. Derek swung around, using the driver’s weight to gain enough leverage to lift his legs and kick him in the face. He released his hold and dropped between them, punching one in the face on the way back up and swinging around to catch the other’s claws before they were embedded in his throat. 

‘What the hell are you doing?’ The bald alpha was back on his feet, and Derek saw his eyes flash in anger. ‘Deucalion said to take him alive.’

It was all the diversion Derek needed and he caught the other twin by the neck and slammed his head down to meet Derek’s knee. It gave him enough time to leap back and then he was hurling himself bodily through the screen, right into the auditorium and off the end of the stage. He landed hard enough to momentarily wind himself before he was up and running. He could hear the people in the cinema screaming, obviously terrified as three wolfed out alphas charged after him and the ensuing chaos meant that Derek was able to get out and run down the corridor, now in the opposite direction. 

He found a side exit and bolted through it into an alleyway, running down away from the square. He found himself in parking area and was about to go into the road when a car pulled up in front of him. He rolled across the hood, ready to keep fighting when the door flew open and he looked up into the face of a young woman. She had an abundance of hair, dark eyes and a dimpled mouth that was set in a grim expression. 

‘Get in!’ Her accent was undeniably American. 

Derek inhaled deeply, trusting his nose. She smelled of gunpowder and explosives, all of it laced with wolfsbane. He heard the door to the cinema slam open and then the shouts of the wolves and got into the car, slamming the door shut even as she took off. 

The young woman said nothing and Derek sat and got his breath back, glancing at her in curiosity. 

‘You’re one of ours,’ he eventually said and the dimples now framed a smile. 

‘My dad asked me to keep an eye out for you.’ she said, screaming around a corner. ‘He had a bad feeling about this whole assignment. It’s a good thing too. I was all set to meet you today but someone tipped off the Alphas and I almost got blown up. They knew about our meeting.’

‘You’re my contact?’ Derek frowned. ‘Are you even out of college?’

The young woman laughed, her dark eyes sparkling when she looked at him.

‘Let’s just say that I’m in the family business, just like you.’ She looked back at the road but now her smile was mischievous. ‘I’m Allison Argent.’

************

Stiles was nervous, and it was most unlike him. He’d been worried since he’d woken up and found Derek gone and his instincts had led him to stand over a table, a crystal dowsing drop in one hand, Derek’s discarded briefs from the night before and a map of Berlin spread out on the table in front of him. It had been a moment’s magic to track the alpha down, already on his way to meet his contact in East Berlin. Stiles had had an inkling as to who that contact might be. He’d made a couple of calls and tipped the person off on the other side, telling her what she needed to know. 

Now he stood on the roof of an abandoned building, taking in the view of the Berlin Verlag sign revolving above them. Allison had been sceptical, but she trusted him enough to help and had accepted Stiles’ word that something was going to happen. He wasn’t a harbinger like Lydia, but he was susceptible to things being off in a way she wasn’t. 

He stood and looked out over the city, chewing his nails until his temporary wards downstairs picked up the passage of two people and he breathed out again. It wasn’t long before the door to the roof was opening and Stiles felt his heart pick up when he saw that Allison had managed to find Derek. 

‘Nice jacket,’ he remarked when they got close enough and Derek glared at him. 

‘You want to tell me what this is?’ He gestured at Allison. ‘Or what the hell Argent’s fucking daughter is doing here?’

‘I’ve been here for a year already,’ Allison replied, her chin lifted defiantly. ‘So don’t pull that senior agent bullshit with me. I also just saved your ass.’

‘Actually I saved both your asses,’ Stiles chuckled. ‘Who was it?’

‘The Alphas,’ Allison muttered. ‘They were waiting for me at the original rendezvous point too.’ 

‘The watchmaker must have tipped them off,’ Derek growled. ‘They made me at the gate.’

‘Then why didn’t they bring you in right away.’ Stiles frowned. 

‘It’s the List,’ Allison said and they both looked at her. ‘What? You didn’t think you were the only ones on this, did you?’

‘Shit.’ Stiles went to sit on one of the rickety lawn chairs set out. ‘So both you and Derek are after it.’

‘Makes sense.’ Derek shrugged. ‘One this side and one the other.’ He looked at Allison, eyes flashing red. ‘Did you know what happened to my sister?’

‘I heard,’ Allison admitted. ‘But I never met Laura in person. I’m undercover here and have been since I was assigned.’

‘So you two know each other?’ Derek was looking between them and Stiles could tell he was reassessing. 

‘Not personally.’ Allison gave Stiles a wry smile. ‘This is only the second time we’ve met. I’m actually not even supposed to be making contact with you but Stiles called this morning and said he had a bad feeling and I know Lydia well enough to know she trusts him.’

‘Lydia?’ Derek turned to Stiles. ‘As in your friend, Lydia?’

‘Yeah,’ Stiles smiled. ‘Allison’s her girlfriend. They met after Lydia got stationed to Singapore. Allison was in boarding school in Hong Kong. Now Allison is here, planted as a student to drive dissent and cause general trouble among the disaffected youth.’

‘Jesus.’ Derek pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation. ‘This gets more complicated by the minute. So what do you know about the List?’

‘I know that it’s got people on both sides of the wall very worried,’ Allison replied. ‘I also know that there’s an unprecedented amount of money being offered for it.’

‘Do you know that it’s probably been taken by the Jaguar?’ Derek asked and the way her mouth fell open indicated that she clearly hadn’t.

‘Fuck.’ Her dark eyes were now fearful. ‘That’s very bad news for all of us.’

‘No shit.’ Stiles blew out a deep breath and looked at Derek. ‘You should tell her. She can be trusted.’

‘She’s an Argent.’ Derek’s eyes narrowed. 

‘Yeah, but Chris taught her,’ Stiles explained. ‘She’s not like Gerard.’

‘Christ no.’ Allison’s mouth twisted in disgust. ‘My grandfather is an asshole. I like to pretend we not related.’ 

Stiles watched Derek listening and knew he was satisfied when his face smoothed out. 

‘Kate is the Jaguar,’ he said and Allison’s whole face changed. Her disbelief was clear as she shook her head. 

‘No.’ She looked at Stiles, her brown eyes wide. ‘Kate’s dead. She died in South America. We had a funeral.’

‘Turns out not,’ Stiles said. ‘She was fucking Laura and we’re pretty certain she killed her.’ 

‘Holy shit.’ Allison deflated and came to sit down. ‘That is...incredible.’

‘Yeah,’ Derek huffed. ‘Imagine how I feel. Your aunt is the one who killed my family. That’s why Peter went after her. He obviously thought he’d taken care of the problem but she’s very much alive and she’s got the List. Not only that but she’s been turned.’

‘Did Peter turn her?’ Allison asked. ‘Maybe by accident?’

‘No.’ Derek shook his head. ‘Only alphas can turn someone. She must have met someone else.’

‘How about Deucalion?’ Stiles felt like things were suddenly clicking into place in his head. ‘Jaguar is a double agent. It would make sense that they’ve had contact.’

‘Actually that does.’ Derek looked thoughtful. ‘And if she’s on the List with the rest of us, she’d have the most to lose.’ 

‘Okay, so Kate gets Deucalion to turn her in exchange for working for him,’ Stiles ventured. ‘She becomes the Jaguar, starts working at playing everyone off each other. She’s still got contacts in the CIA, exchanges information. But then she hears about the List and figures out that Laura’s contact in the Stasi is planning on getting it to her.’

‘So she takes Laura out.’ Derek nodded. ‘Grabs the List. Now she can keep her identity safe and fuck all of us over.’

‘Yeah, but she would have had to meet Laura way in advance,’ Allison said. ‘She would have had to know way before that there was a traitor.’

‘Deucalion pretty much runs the Stasi,’ Stiles told her. ‘He could have had his suspicions, tipped her off. She makes her move on Laura that way.’

‘Yeah but to lie to an alpha werewolf.’ Allison shook her head. ‘That’s fucking impossible.’

‘Not for another were,’ Derek replied. ‘And she’s obviously been taught to conceal her scent.’

‘Goddammit.’ Stiles let his head fall back. ‘We’re so fucked.’

‘Not necessarily,’ Derek said. ‘We can still play on her weaknesses. She’ll be arrogant, overconfident. We can get her to show herself by giving her something that she wants.’ 

‘What else could she want?’ Allison asked. ‘She has the List.’

Stiles saw Derek inhale and the blow the breath out as of steeling himself.

‘No.’ He shook his head violently. ‘Derek. Not a fucking chance.’

‘She won’t be able to resist.’ Derek’s smile was grim. ‘I’m the one that got away.’

‘Fuck!’ Stiles got up, kicking the chair away and stroming over to the railing. He heard Allison and Derek murmuring behind him and then Allison was walking away, the door eventually signalling her departure. 

He kept looking out until he heard Derek move up next to him, leaning in close enough that their arms were pressed together. 

‘It’ll work,’ he said and Stiles snorted.

‘It’ll get you killed.’ There was a lump in his throat that was choking him. 

‘So?’ Derek leaned in and nosed at his cheek. ‘You know how this works. None of this is real.’

Stiles turned to look at him, lifting a hand and cupping his face. 

‘I don’t want you to die.’ he said and Derek’s eyes softened. He leaned in, his mouth gentle as he kissed Stiles. 

‘You’re very fucking bad for me,’ he murmured as he pulled back and Stiles choked out a bitter laugh. 

‘You asshole.’ He rested his forehead against Derek’s. ‘I really do think I fucking love you.’

‘Yeah?’ Derek smiled at him, the sadness in it breaking Stiles’ heart wide open. ‘That’s maybe not your wisest choice. I’m not good for anyone.’

‘Neither am I,’ Stiles muttered and pulled him back in. 

************

Allison took them to an empty road not to far from the river and dropped them off. 

‘We’ll keep you posted,’ Stiles said as he got out the car. ‘We’re going to need your help. If we’re going to get the Chemist out, then we’ll need a diversion. That way we can bait Kate into coming out into the open.’

‘I’ll get something planned,’ Allison replied. ‘Just make sure you two don’t get burned before we need to move.’ 

Derek stood back as Stiles closed the door and she drove off in a squeal of tires. 

‘She’s nothing like them,’ he said. ‘I actually like her.’

‘She’s as honourable as it’s possible to be in this business,’ Stiles said. ‘Come on, we need to get back across without anyone seeing us.’ 

He led him to a grating and lifted it. Derek wrinkled his nose.

‘Seriously?’ He stared at Stiles. ‘Sewer pipes are how you get around?’

‘Old school but effective. I know all the ways in and out through the tunnels,’ Stiles said and dropped out of sight. Derek sighed and followed him. 

Below the street, the light was dim but he could see enough to walk without bumping into anything. Once they were far enough, Stiles lifted a hand and small ball of white light ignited above his palm and then flew off to hover in front of them. 

‘Handy,’ Derek remarked and Stiles smiled. 

‘So, here’s what I think,’ he said. ‘Allison gets a bunch of her rabble rousers to have a conveniently placed protest march. You and I get Harris and dress him up for the part. We walk him towards the gate and hope that Kate makes a move. Danny can get in and out as well, so we pass off Harris to him and let him take him through the gate. Meanwhile you and I take that crazy bitch out and take the List. Then we have both.’

‘I don’t like you being involved,’ Derek growled. ‘I want you to stay with Danny.’

‘Too bad.’ Stiles threw him a defiant look over his shoulder. ‘I’m already involved.’ The double meaning in his words didn’t escape Derek’s notice and he smiled. 

‘You’re turning out to be all kinds of surprising,’ he remarked and Stiles chuckled. 

‘So are you.’ He turned to walk backwards. ‘You won’t be able to stay for long. Harris will have to be on the first plane out.’

‘We’ll need documents for that,’ Derek told him. 

‘Danny will fix us up,’ Stiles replied. ‘He’s a fucking good forger. Makes a mint doing it for people who can make it out.’

‘And here I thought he was just a DJ.’ Derek smiled. ‘What about you? I’ll be leaving you in a fucking dangerous situation, even if we do manage to take out Kate.’

‘Yeah.’ Stiles shrugged. ‘But maybe it’s time for me and Berlin to part ways. I haven’t been home in a very long time and the CIA owes me about a thousand years of vacation time.’ His eyes flashed for a moment. ‘You could show me New York.’

Derek’s heart did a little jump and he moved so they were walking alongside each other, taking Stiles’ hand when he turned back around. 

‘I think you’ll like it,’ he replied.


	9. March

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to make a move.

Planning wasn’t Derek’s strong point. He was used to relying on his senses, superior strength and agility and fighting skills to keep him alive. He was astonished just how complex and deep the network Stiles had throughout the city was turning out to be. Then again, Stiles didn’t want anyone to know he was a Spark (as far as Derek could tell, not even Danny knew and he was Stiles’ closest so-called friend.) so he had to do a lot of stuff in human ways to avoid suspicion.

The night before had been a trek between Derek’s hotel and Stiles’ apartment as they transferred Derek’s things. He’d never ever taken that step before, had never placed his trust in anyone the way he was doing with Stiles’ but the steady beat of Stiles’ heart and the honesty in his words and scent had made Derek realise that he was as invested as Derek was. As he put it, they were both fucked if that list was made public or was used by Kate to take them all out, one by one. Stiles had told him some of the things that happened to Sparks when they were taken by people who were less than concerned with their welfare. There were plenty of magic workers who would kill, literally, to get their hands on someone like him. Stiles could be used like a magical fuel source or scarified to bring all kinds of hell into their dimension. It was a terrifying thought, even worse than being taken by traders for his fangs and fur or cut in half by hunters. 

Stiles had turned out to be a perfectionist and Derek had been in awe of his ability to plot out a scheme to the very last detail. He and Derek were to go over to the East the following morning, catching the metro and using the access tunnels under the street to get there. Danny had been at the apartment earlier, a hushed conversation with Stiles that had resulted in money changing hands and a duffle bag leaving with Danny. He was apparently as skilled as getting into the East as Stiles was, using his forged documents to come and go as he pleased. Derek had also managed to get a good sniff at Danny while he’d been there and realised that there was something not quite human about him as well, but Stiles was refusing to confirm or deny his suspicions. There had to be something, but he was clearly unclassified and not part of any operation so Derek left it alone. 

Danny was going to be meeting up with Allison and getting started on the documents in her headquarters. He and Stiles would be picking Harris up on his way to work, making it look like he’d been snatched. Then they would be taking him to Danny and Allison, where Harris would be transformed into someone who could pass through the border unnoticed. His family, part of the agreement with the CIA, would follow at a later date. Harris would be missing for a period of time, after which Allison would arrange for a body to be found that could be passed off as him. Derek had no idea who they were going to do that, but apparently Allison’s connection to Lydia came with the added bonus of darker magic that could be put to that purpose. Derek hadn’t even been aware that they did things like that, but Stiles’ snarky laugh had told him what he’d already suspected - that he had absolutely no idea just how many things the CIA was into. 

He followed Stiles to the metro station closest to his apartment. The complete lack of surveillance was still something he was getting used to but it felt oddly freeing to not have to watch his back constantly. They went in, both of them dressed to draw as little attention as possible. Stiles was back in his worn jeans, parka thrown over the top of his t-shirt and flannel and a backpack over his shoulder. He’d also gotten up a little before sunrise to set a fake cast on his arm, although he hadn’t told Derek exactly why. 

Derek was similarly dressed in his borrowed jeans and stolen jacket, unshaven and with his hair unkempt and soft over his forehead. He’d done a double take at himself in the mirror, surprised by how young he looked. He’d hardly recognised himself at all and Stiles had laughed at him and kissed him silly and Derek had wondered at just how he’d landed in this situation. 

They caught the next train on the platform, taking a seat opposite each other. Derek watched Stiles watching him, their eyes meeting and holding. The very air seemed charged between them now and Derek thought about the previous night and how desperately Stiles had begged to be fucked before falling into a deep sleep, sprawled across Derek’s chest. 

Now though, he was perfectly calm, steely eyed and watchful. It was like looking at a completely different person and Derek felt the tug of attraction deep in his chest. He liked this Stiles, the one that looked like the cold-blooded CIA agent he actually was, and mused on what that said about himself. For his part, Stiles’ scent was tinged with interest, in spite of the high stakes game they were playing. There was a quirk to the corner of his mouth, a blink-and-you-miss-it moment when his eyes flashed at Derek. 

The train pulled into the fifth station and Stiles got up. Derek followed suit, keeping pace with him as Stiles led him down the platform, the air around him tinged with ozone as he worked his magic to make sure the guards and their Dobermans didn’t so much as give them a second glance. They got to the end of the platform, slipping past the gated exit and Stiles went to the door to the engineering access. He placed his palm over the lock, there was s surge in air pressure that Derek felt in his ears and the lock snicked quietly. Stiles opened the door and waved Derek through, coming in behind him and locking the door behind them.

These tunnels were a far sight darker than the sewers had been and Derek’s eyes lit up. He saw the world in shades of infrared like this, navigating the darkness with ease. Stiles kept up with him, familiarity and a hand tucked into the back of Derek’s jeans meaning he didn’t have to use magic to provide light. He pointed out their way and Derek noted the wards that lit up as they passed them. 

‘You’ve got this place pretty much locked down.’ It was full of admiration and he smelled the happy pride coming off of Stiles. 

‘Three years means a lot of exploring.’ he replied. ‘This is all my playground down here. The Alphas don’t like it for some reason.’

‘Wolves don’t like enclosed spaces.’ Derek explained. ‘It makes them feel trapped.’

‘You’re not bothered by it.’ Stiles pointed out and Derek hummed agreement. 

‘Our pack lived in a compound out in rural California.’ he said. ‘We had a network of tunnels underneath the house. I grew up playing in them with my sisters and cousins. It’s how we got so good at tracking.’ He didn’t mention that Kate had blocked off the tunnels when she’d killed his pack or that he had been the one to tell her about them. He had a feeling that Stiles would probably guess. 

They came out on a block that was lined with historic buildings and Stiles took him to a grand three storey building, ushering Derek in through ornate double doors. They jogged up the stairs to the third floor and into a huge room filled with computers and surveillance equipment that was remarkably high tech. Derek could tell it was warded, but not by Stiles. The magic here had a very druidic tinge to the scent. Allison was there, along with Danny and a tall black woman with a seemingly ageless face. She looked almost cliche in her long black boots, trench coat and with her sleek long hair pulled back into a severe ponytail.

Stiles gave her a suspicious look, anger colouring his scent and Derek frowned, his instincts to protect coming to the for as he recognised a very familiar element of the druid’s scent, not to mention that she absolutely reeked of the alpha pack. 

‘What the hell is this?’ Stiles asked, waving a hand at her. ‘You want to maybe just open a window and yell for Deucalion while we’re at it.’

‘Stiles.’ Allison said it warningly, but Derek could tell she wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation. ‘You know Marin’s loyalties lie with us.’

‘Bullshit!’ Stiles shot back. ‘She works as a double agent. I would trust her about as far as I could throw her.’

‘You’ll need me.’ Marin said, a trace of an accent making Derek cock his head. ‘I can make sure Deucalion and the Alpha pack are pointed in the wrong direction while you get the Chemist out.’

‘Fine.’ Stiles snapped. ‘But the first sign of anything going south and I’m leaving you in the fucking dirt.’

Marin nodded, her black eyes shrewd. 

‘Likewise.’ she replied. ‘We all have a hand in this. The Alphas don’t know about the work I do for the CIA.’

Stiles huffed and then looked around.

‘Where is our little canary anyway?’ he said and Derek hid a smirk. He greatly appreciated the biting wit Stiles wielded like a weapon. It was easy to see why he and Laura had been friends. 

‘Through here.’ Allison said. She was dressed like any other student but Derek’s practiced eye could pick out at least three knives on her. She led them to a back room and Derek saw a tall thin man standing by the window. He turned and his watery grey eyes fixed on Stiles and then looked over his shoulder at Derek.

‘Who is that?’ he demanded, backing up. Derek could tell he had obviously had dealings with wolves and didn’t blame him for the distrust. He strode past Stiles, head up and eyes flashing red. When he got to Harris, he took an exaggerated breath.

‘You smell like a Stasi officer.’ he said, not even trying to keep the disdain out of his voice. 

‘We have clothes for him.’ Stiles said to Allison, who had come up behind them. He handed her the backpack and then came to stand by Derek’s side. ‘You’ll need to shave off that moustache, change and use the cologne I’ve put in there. You can’t take anything from the East with you and you need to look and smell like us. Then Danny will take your picture and we’ll make up your new passport.’

Harris looked cowed, especially when Derek gave him a soft growl to get him moving. He scuttled off with the backpack as instructed and Stiles turned back to Allison.

‘What’s the plan?’ he asked. 

‘There’s a huge protest planned for today.’ Allison told them both. ‘I have all my students ready to walk and we’ve got a little something planned to keep eyes off of us.’ Her dimples appeared as she grinned. ‘Marin came to tell us that the Alphas have been following you both and that they suspect you’re going to pull something tomorrow. They know about the List, and that the Chemist gave it over but they also know that the Jaguar took it. It seems she’s been working with them for quite a while and had told Deucalion she was going to hand it over to him and then reneged on the deal.’

‘Quel surprise.’ Stiles snorted. ‘So they don’t know that he’s got the list memorised?’

‘No.’ Allison said. ‘Marin told me that they’re going crazy trying to figure out what you’d want with a low level intelligence officer.’

‘Good.’ Stiles folded his arms and gave her a questioning look. ‘Where are they going to be?’

‘Somewhere along the route.’ Allison replied. ‘They’ve got Kali on it.’ 

‘What does that mean?’ Derek asked and Stiles made a face. 

‘Kali’s a sniper.’ he explained. ‘And she’s fucking good. The best they’ve got.’

‘That’s why my little diversion is going to come in handy.’ Allison was smug. ‘It should go off without a hitch.’

‘What about the Jaguar?’ Stiles asked. ‘Does Marin know who she is?’

‘No, just by her reputation and the fact that she’s a woman.’ Allison said. ‘And I haven’t told her either. From what I know, she’s taken her prize and gone. Nobody has seen hide nor hair of her since Laura’s death.’ She left them and walked back through to talk to Marin and Derek gave Stiles a look. They had both agreed to keep the plan to use Harris to lure Kate out into the open a secret. With any luck, Harris’ presence would be enough.

************

A mile away, Deucalion was furious. 

‘That was not the deal,’ he hissed, sounding more like an angry cat than a wolf. Across from him, the tall woman luring in the shadows of the room smiled. It wasn’t a pleasant smile, cold and sharp edged. 

‘There are new complications,’ she replied. ‘Get rid of the Stasi traitor and hand over the Alpha to me and you’ll get what you want.’

‘How do we even know she has it?’ Kali sneered from behind him, her rifle cradled in her arms. 

‘Listen to my heartbeat,’ the woman said airily. ‘You’ll know I’m not.’

‘Like that’s any guarantee,’ Kali snarled. She spat on the ground, just missing the woman’s boots. ‘Nagual bitch!’

There was an answering snarl and vivid green eyes lit up in the gloom. The woman stepped forward to reveal a blue-skinned face spotted with dark rosettes, sharp fangs bared, and Deucalion immediately got between them, his own eyes flashing red behind his dark glasses and his fangs exposed. 

‘Enough!’ he roared, waiting for them to both back down before he turned to Kate Argent. ‘This was not in our original plan, but we can be flexible.’ 

Kate’s face shifted back to her human form and she smirked at Kali. 

‘Make sure you take out the humans first,’ she ordered. ‘Harris is not allowed to get past the checkpoint.’

‘Kali never misses,’ Deucalion assured her. ‘Ennis and the twins will be in the crowd to take care of Hale. Once he’s incapacitated, we will deliver him to you.’

‘Good.’ Now Kate’s smiles had a distinctly self-satisfied air to it. ‘I have an old debt to settle.’

************

Harris came back through, his face pinched and worried, dressed in the sensible slacks, shirt and sweater vest that Stiles had brought him. He looked more like a middle aged teacher now than a policeman, and he stood while they inspected him. 

‘What do you think?’ Stiles asked Danny and he shrugged.

‘Personally I wouldn’t be caught dead in that shirt, but for him it’s perfect.’ he replied.

‘Fine.’ Stiles waved a hand at the wall. ‘Go stand over there.’

Danny approached with a passport camera. He took Harris’ photographs, going to a work table to peel the film and get finished on the passports. He had two more ready as well, one for Derek and one for Stiles. Derek had raised an eyebrow at that, but Stiles had just given him a mysterious smile and kept schtum. 

‘Are we ready?’ Allison came back into the back room. Marin had disappeared earlier, leaving without so much as a goodbye after having a long whispered conversation in French. 

Derek looked at her, noting how she was dressed in a sensible black wool dress with a turtleneck under her grey trench coat. The clothes were deliberately unobtrusive and reminded Derek of how her father tended to dress in sober colours too. Her flat knee high boots were perfect for running and she was holding a black umbrella under one arm#. He wondered just how dangerous she was. Certainly her comfort with what they were doing and her distinct lack of fear for what was coming up put her in good stead. Then again, it took serious guts to be posted undercover on the wrong side of the wall and he was a little sorry that he’d never had the chance to really get to know her. She seemed the complete antithesis of her aunt and grandfather, clearly Chris’ influence. He did know that her mother had been a fellow agent who’d died in the line of fire and Chris had raised her single handedly. At least that had been the line Peter had given him when he’d called for information. 

‘We’re ready.’ Stiles said and looked at him, his brown eyes flickering violet at the edges. It was subtle, so faint that Derek only picked it up with his wolf sight and because he could smell the change in Stiles’ scent. He felt the electric surge in the air and the corner of his mouth quirked up at what Stiles’ might have planned. 

‘You’re not armed.’ Danny observed. ‘I have weapons in the back.’

‘No.’ Stiles shook his head. ‘It’ll be better if we’re not caught with anything in the unlikely event we get made down there. Besides, it’s not like we need them.’ There was a mocking lilt to his voice and Derek noticed that Danny’s grin was knowing. 

‘Not long now.’ Allison turned to him. ‘You need to get out of the East. I have it on good authority that things are going to come to a head later tonight and you don’t want to get caught in that.’

‘On it.’ Danny threw Stiles and Derek a dimpled smile. ‘I’ll catch you both on the other side and if I don’t, send me a wedding invitation.’ With that he gave them a wink and was gone in a puff of black smoke as if he’d just popped out of existence, leaving behind the faint stink of sulphur. 

‘Mein Gott.’ Harris was startled. ‘What the hell was that?’

‘Nothing for you to be concerned about.’ Stiles seemed unperturbed. He herded him over to Allison. ‘Now move your ass, Harris. You’re about to become a free man.’

They left the office, heading down the stairs and Derek hung back a little. Stiles noticed and waited for him to catch up.

‘What was that back there?’ Derek asked, more than a little intrigued. 

‘Danny’s a demon, an incubus.’ Stiles replied. ‘But it’s not something we like to let get around too much.’ He chuckled at Derek’s look of astonishment. ‘You don’t many demons?’

‘I don’t know any.’ Derek confessed. ‘I hadn’t really considered their existence before.’

‘They’re pretty much immortal.’ Stiles told him. ‘Danny’s been floating around Europe since he used to hang out with Byron. He likes it here and he’s a good contact to have.’

Derek could only agree. 

They got to the front doors and he could hear the rhythmic beat of feet starting to come into the road, the chanting of protesters growing in volume as they approached. At the door, Allison undid the strap on her umbrella and looped it around her wrist. Then she threw open the door and stepped out into the crowd, leaving them to follow behind her. Derek could only stare in admiration when he saw what she’d organised, the streams of chanting students moving past like a river and all of them carrying black umbrellas under their arms. He saw the plan instantly and knew that with that much coverage there was no way Kali would be able to get a good enough look at them to take a shot. It was a genius move and he found himself barking a startled laugh as he moved with Stiles, one of them on each side of a quaking Harris. 

‘Wait.’ His voice was shaking. ‘I know that you both are on the List and that it would probably be better to just get rid of me, but really what other choice do I have. If the Alphas don’t find me, the Jaguar will.’ He looked right at Derek. ‘I know you know her.’

‘Relax.’ Stiles clapped a hand on his shoulder. ‘We said we would get you out and we will. You are much more valuable to us alive and personally, I’ve never lost a package.’ He gave Harris a jaunty wink and then stepped out the door, taking the man with him. Derek followed on their heels, moving back to Harris’ side. The crowd swallowed them up and Derek heard Stiles’ heart pick up in anticipation, the ozone mixing with adrenaline and a little hint of overexcitement, and he rolled his eyes. 

‘You’re impossible.’ he murmured, ignoring Harris. ‘How the fuck are you getting off on this?’

‘Like you don’t.’ Stiles retorted, as he moved to centre them in the middle of the crowd. ‘Now Herr Harris, slow and easy and don’t forget to shout those horrible slogans extra loud.’ He grinned at Derek, raised his free hand clenched in a fist and started doing just that, the German rolling off his tongue perfectly. Derek shook his head and did the same, feeling a little like he’d stepped into a parallel universe.

Now all they had to do was wait and see if their prey took the bait. 

************

‘They are close.’ Kali had her sniper rifle set up, her scope trained on the street below. ‘I just need one clean shot.’

‘What about the Jaguar?’ Ennis was standing behind her, arms folded. ‘What are we going to do about her?’

‘She will be dealt with in good time.’ Deucalion smiled. ‘For now, it is beneficial to our cause to aid her in getting rid of the Chemist and the Americans. Once that is done, we can take her in and retrieved the list.’

‘Good.’ Kali snarled. ‘I hate that bitch.’

‘I’m sure the feeling is mutual.’ Deucalion chuckled and tilted his head, tracking the approaching march.

*************

‘There’s so many people.’ Stiles had to yell for Allison to hear him above the chanting.

‘It’ll be perfect.’ Allison yelled back. ‘You’ll be able to slip past without any problem at all. This is going to be the biggest protest march Berlin has ever seen!’ Her whole face was lit up with excitement.

They were almost at the junction that led to the square around the Brandenburg Gate. Just as they were about to get to the crossing, Allison put her fingers to her lips and let loose a strident whistle. At her signal, everyone around them lifted their umbrellas, opening them in one movement. As Derek expected, they were all hidden from view of anyone who might be waiting in the buildings around them. He grinned at her and she winked back and pulled the neck of her dress up and over her face. 

***********

‘What the fuck?’ Kali lifted her head. ‘I can’t see a thing!’

‘Shit.’ Deucalion got on his radio. ‘Report! Can you see them?’

‘No.’ It was Aidan’s voice. He and Ethan were down in the crowd so they could track them. ‘They are too close together. We could try track them by smell.’

‘Hale will be blocking his scent and they have probably drenched the traitor in American cologne.’ Deucalion growled. He nodded at Ennis. ‘Go down and help them. Go through the crowd, look for Stilinski. He’ll be easy enough to spot, the little shit is never far from the action.’

Ennis nodded and left, storming down the stairs.

************

‘Here we go.’ Stiles’ smile was grim. He moved Harris with him as they got to the square, starting to head in the direction of the gate. Derek moved with him, Allison covering their rear. They went quickly, almost carrying Harris along with them, but it wasn’t easy. The number of people around was unprecedented and the cover of the umbrellas was being quickly left behind. 

The chanting was at a peak, the sound around them making it very difficult to track anything. Stiles knew it was both a help and a hindrance. The Alphas wouldn’t be able to use their hearing but they could still used their noses. He had a suspicion that Derek would be blocking his own scent and Harris stunk of Aramis so that would help, but they need to get out of the crowd and over to the other side as quickly as possible. 

He stole a quick glance at Derek, seeing how the alpha was focused completely on their objective and felt a sense of trust he had never felt for another person before, not even Lydia. He knew without a doubt that Derek would be right next to him if it came down to a confrontation and that gave him confidence in what they were doing. 

He was about to make his move when something caught his attention and he swung around to ward the person off and step in front of Harris, but the blow was too powerful for him to counteract and he was knocked back. He heard Derek growl, low and threatening, but the press of the crowd and the people around them made it impossible to cause a scene and Stiles was left staring at a beautiful woman, her hair falling about her face in thick blond curls. He didn’t need to hear Derek’s gasp to know who she was, the name one he’d been expecting.

She was in front of Harris, her one hand curled up into him as if grabbing his shirt, but the spreading red stain around her fingers showed that she had her hand deep in his stomach. She tore down and the ripping sound was terrible. Derek was already snarling, his eyes flickering red but not able to shift for fear that the crowd around them would panic and set upon them instead. 

They were all frozen in place, Kate’s blue eyes triumphant as she held up her dripping claws. Her mocking laugh was drowned out by the people around them, and she turned and melted into the crowd as quickly as she’d appeared.


	10. End Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter.

Derek didn’t wait. He bolted, ignoring Stiles’ shouts behind him. Everything inside him was screaming this was a trap, but he was too far gone to care. He saw nothing but red, the Alpha mind taking over as he chased Kate through the throng of bodies, his every fibre screaming for revenge. He wanted to bring her to her knees, make her beg and then rip her throat out. It was the least he could do for his sister.

********

‘Fuck!’ Stiles spat. He was still crouched over Harri’s prone body, the blood from the wounds in his stomach mingling with the rainwater and staining it red.

‘Stiles!’ Allison’s hand was on his shoulder. ‘We need to go!’

‘Okay!’ he shouted back, getting to his feet and following her. There were screams and people reeling in shock at the sight of the dead man on the ground and Allison led him away from the press and the sound of incoming Stasi. ‘Where are we going?’

‘We need to get away from here.’ Allison was quick on her feet, getting across the road and into an alley that would lead them out the other side. ‘Block that please.’

Stiles took a second to throw up the ward that would keep anyone out and ran to catch up to her.

‘We need to go back for Derek.’ he insisted and Allison shook her head, grabbing his arm and dragging him with her.

‘I have orders to keep you safe at all costs.’ she replied. ‘And Derek can take care of himself.’

*********

The building Kate ran into stank of wolf and Derek shifted in response, growling low in his throat as he paused in the lobby. He could hear her heels clicking up the stairs and inhaled deeply. He could parse out the scents of at least five different alphas, all of them familiar. Braeden’s warning came back to him and he snarled and considered his options.

They would be expecting him to chase Kate up the stairs and avoid the confined space of the elevator so he took that instead, selecting the third floor rather than the last. Inside, he checked his weapon. He had enough to put a serious dent in their plans and get past them to Kate and he wondered just what their deal was. Jaguars and wolves didn’t work together as a rule, but if they were after the List he was sure that Deucalion would do anything to get it.

The doors slid open and he leapt out, hoping for the element of surprise and getting it. The twins were halfway down to the next landing, their own guns drawn, and they roared at him in challenge. Derek threw himself across the floor, avoiding the spray of bullets as he rolled and popped back up onto his feet. One twin had made it to within a few feet and Derek caught him around the waist, bearing him up and into the wall. The sound of cracking ribs and the whine of pain they elicited didn’t distract him from the snarl behind him and he lashed out, catching the second twin in the chest with a well-placed elbow. It gave Derek enough time to wheel around, his hold on the first twin propelling him against the bannister and then using a swift sweep of a foot to tip him over. The alpha howled all the way down and whimpered when he hit the floor of the lobby. His pained cry was enough to have his brother hesitating, clearly torn between wanting to check he was alright and getting in Derek’s way. Eventually kinship won out and he was hurtling down the stairs, leaving an open path that Derek took without looking back.

He could smell Kate’s passing, her perfume and the earth smell of jaguar leaving an easy trail to follow. It was so overpowering that he ran into the next alpha on the flight up almost literally, ducking as she swept out at him with a roundhouse kick, leaning back just enough that her razor sharp toe claws only just grazed his cheek, the small scratches healing over instantly. It was unusual for wolves to fight with their foot claws but not unheard of and he crouched, striking upwards and hitting her hard enough to knock her off balance. Laura had used them on occasion too but Derek had kept his sheathed, preferring to use his hands and fangs to fight.

He recognised the she-wolf from the cafe and when she flashed red eyes at him, Derek bared his teeth in reply.

‘Just get out of my way.’ he growled. ‘I’m not interested in you ro Deucalion. I just want Kate.’

That was enough to make her pause and Derek saw something spark in her dark eyes.

‘I’m telling the truth.’ he said, stepping back and holding up his hands. He knew she was listening to his heart beat by the way her head tilted. ‘I am only after her.’

‘What about the List?’ she snarled, still on alert. ‘Deucalion wants it.’

‘I’m not going to lie and say I won’t take it from her.’ Derek replied. ‘But I can promise you that it won’t fall into unfriendly hands.’ He frowned as something occurred to him. ‘What would I find on it that’s got you spooked?’

‘Like I’d tell you.’ The woman’s lip curled. ‘But I won’t insult your intelligence by pretending that I’d be dead if the Stasi got hold of it.’

Derek was astounded.

‘Who are you?’ he asked and the woman froze, clearly checking for eavesdroppers.

‘My codename is Kali.’ she finally replied, the harsh Russian accent dropping into a softer Hindi one. ‘I’m RAW.’

‘What the hell are you doing here?’ Derek hissed and she raised her eyes to the roof.

‘All I can say is, India has vested interests.’ she growled. ‘You have no idea what I’ve had to sacrifice to be here.’

‘We all sacrificed.’ Derek replied. ‘Are you going to let me get past?’

‘Promise to never make the List public and I will.’ Kali said. ‘My life is at stake and the life of someone I love very much.’

Derek thought about warm brown eyes and a smile that made his heart pick up just to think about it.

‘You have my word.’ he replied. ‘I can promise that the CIA will never know who’s in it.’

Kali’s nostrils flared as she scented the air and then she stepped aside.

‘Deucalion has already left.’ she told him. ‘He’s gone after the Spark with Ennis.’

‘Thank you.’ Derek said and she nodded once and disappeared down the stairs, leaving him to go upstairs.

**********

They came out of the alley and ran across to the next, Stiles’ mind racing with questions.

‘Who exactly is pulling your strings?’ he asked and Allison threw a grin over her shoulder. ‘Oh she didn’t.’

‘She did and you know how I hate to disappoint her.’ Allison threw back. ‘Come on. I can guarantee that Derek will make it out, okay? There’s more people here on his side than you know.’

‘Huh?’ Stiles was mightily confused but he ran for all he was worth when the sound of gunfire suddenly exploded around him. ‘Fuck!’

‘It’s Deucalion!’ Allison was spinning and lifting her own gun, firing with pinpoint precision. There was a furious howl and Stiles threw up both hands, ash from the small vial he kept in his pocket flying through the air and forming a net across the street. IT didn’t stop gunfire but it did mean that the wolves following them had to double back and that gave them enough time to escape into the building immediately in front of them. They ran through the entrance, dodging terrified tenants until they were through to the other side. There was a car waiting and Stiles saw Danny in the front seat.

‘Come on!’ He beckoned frantically. ‘The Stasi are all over the fucking place!’

‘Can you get us out?’ Allison was already getting in the passenger seat.

‘With a little persuasion and a lot of magic.’ Danny grinned but Stiles held back. He glanced towards the alleyway, knowing that the alphas were on their way.

‘I need a favour.’ he said and both Danny and Allison glared at him.

‘No.’ Her voice was stern. ‘I told Lydia I wouldn’t leave you.’

‘They’ll follow the car.’ Stiles smiled. ‘Then I can double back and find Derek.’

 

‘Jesus.’ Danny peered at him past Allison. ‘You’re fucking smitten.’

‘Maybe.’ Stiles allowed. ‘But he needs my help.’

‘Shit.’ Allison’s shoulders drooped in defeat. ‘Please try not to die.’

‘I won’t.’ Stiles looked at Danny. ‘Get her to the other side. I don’t think it’s going to be safe for her after today.’

‘I will.’ Danny replied and then floored the gas. Stiles waited until the car was around the corner before checking out his surroundings. He took off down the street back towards the march, already formulating a plan.

**********

Derek moved silently, claws still out and ready to take on anything he might encounter. He knew there were still two other members of the alpha pack unaccounted for, even without taking the threat of Kate into consideration and he had to keep alert. So he moved quickly and quietly and as he got higher up in the building, the more he became suspicious that it was all far too easy.

He froze when he heard voices coming from the floor above and he focused in on them, listening to the heated argument in German. There were two men and then he heard Kate’s voice, her accent flawless.

‘He’s here!’ she was hissing. ‘Right now he’s coming up here to get me! You need to keep your side of the bargain. Your men were supposed to take him out in the crowd, but here I find them!’  
‘I will do that the moment you hand over the List.’ Deucalion’s voice said. ‘You kill the chemist, we help you kill Hale and you give us the payment you promised. Was that not the deal?’

‘Except Hale’s not dead.’ Kate growled. Derek could hear the desperation in her voice. ‘You let him get past you!’

‘You perhaps. He won’t get past Kali.’ Another man’s voice, obviously Ennis. Derek didn’t think he sounded perturbed.

‘That bitch can’t stop him.’ Kate hissed. ‘Not now he knows I’m here. Believe me, he’ll go right through her.’

‘Then you’re going to have to give us what we want.’ Deucalion was unmoved. ‘Now if you please, Fraulein Argent.’

There was a sharp intake of breath and Derek realised that Kate had been sidestepped.

‘How…?’ she started and then there was the sound of a gun cocking.

‘You think I’m stupid?’ Deucalion’s voice was menacing. ‘I know you, Jaguar. I have kept track of every little dirty deal you have made, of every single time you’ve betrayed someone on every side and I knew the second you arrived in Berlin and now I am going to string you out across the city by your very entrails.’

The gun went off to the sound of roars and Derek wasted no time. He ran for the closed door and shouldered through it. Kate was grappling with Ennis while Deucalion fought to hold her arm still and Derek saw that he was trying to get the watch off her wrist. Kate howled in fury and twisted violently and managed to wriggle free. She backed into a corner and looked past them to Derek.

‘Derek.’ Her voice had that wheedling tone he recognised all too well. ‘You have to help me.’ Her face was shifting, her skin rippled in blue and black markings. ‘This is all a misunderstanding.’

‘Mr Hale.’ Deucalion didn’t turn around, his weapon still trained on Kate. ‘Nice of you to join us.’

Derek stayed still, watching Ennis as he levelled his own weapon at Derek. There was no doubt this time that they were packing wolfsbane rounds, a particularly potent blend by the smell of it.

‘I only want her.’ he said, the wolf making his voice thick.

‘And the List?’ Deucalion asked and Derek shrugged.

‘We’re all in there, Deucalion.’ he replied. ‘You don’t want it getting out any more than I do. If you destroy it now, we can both let this go and we’ll be done. I get the fuck out of Berlin and you go back to terrorising the resident population. All I want is her. She killed Laura and she killed my family and I want what’s due me.’

‘Yes.’ Deucalion sighed. ‘Your mother was a formidable opponent. She was a fine woman and I lament her passing.’ He glanced at Derek over her shoulder. ‘What will you do with her?’

Derek looked into Kate’s eyes, brilliant green and now full of something akin to panic.

‘I want her head.’ he stated. ‘I’m taking it home to my uncle.’

Deucalion chuckled and nodded once.

‘You have an agreement, Herr Hale.’ His eyes glowed red. ‘The Jaguar is yours.’ He held up the Rolex that he’d snatched from Kate’s wrist. ‘Perhaps our young friend would like to do the honours for us?’

Derek frowned and then wheeled around at the sound of footsteps behind him. He’d had no idea Stiles was there, his scent completely masked. He stood and looked at them all, both hands in his pockets and whistled through his teeth.

‘Wow.’ His grinned. ‘This is not what I expected to see.’

‘Stiles.’ Deucalion sounded like he was rebuking an errant child. ‘You know I only take serious measures if I need to. Now, please would you be so kind. I have made the agreement with Hale as you required, although why I do not know.’

‘Because getting me out the city is worth more to you than that list.’ Stiles laughed, his eyes glowing violet. ‘You know how much damage I’ll do if you hurt him.’

Derek was at a loss. He stared at Stiles and got a wink.

‘You’re working with him?’ He couldn’t quite place what he was feeling and Stiles snorted loudly.

‘No.’ He sounded offended. ‘I work for myself, Derek. And obviously now for you. Hasn’t all of this seemed far too convenient? Do you really think a Spark doesn’t know exactly what is going on in his city at every moment? There’s a reason Peter put me here.’ He ambled over and took the watch from Deucalion’s hand. ‘The second Kate killed Laura, she was dead. She just didn’t know it yet. And Deucalion and I have had an agreement for a very long time. I stay out of his business and he stays out of mine. It works well that way. The moment I knew you were coming, I called a meeting and we set this up. At first, I was just going to make sure the List was secure but then you came along and I figured I may as well keep you safe too.’ His mouth quirked. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, I quite like you.’

Deucalion rolled his eyes.

‘Stiles.’ He narrowed his eyes at him. ‘I don’t have all day.’

‘Sorry.’ Stiles opened up his hand and Derek watched in complete fascination as the Rolex began to simply melt away, the now liquid metal running through Stiles’ fingers and dripping onto the floor.

‘No!’ Kate howled and threw herself forward. Derek acted purely on instinct, getting between her and Stiles and throwing her back. She stumbled and he caught her, one hand tangled in her long hair and yanking her head back so she could look at him.

‘This is for everything you’ve done.’ he snarled and ripped his claws across the tender unresisting flesh of her throat. It parted easily, the blood spurting from the wound and hitting him in the face as she gurgled and thrashed. Her healing was trying to seal the wound and Derek lifted her to him, catching the sealing edged between his fangs and tearing through it until she finally went limp.

He dropped her to the floor, the thud like music to his ears and then turned around His eyes were burning red and when he looked at Ennis and Deucalion, so were theirs.

‘Okay!’ Stiles clapped his hands together and they all jumped. ‘Now that that’s out the way, who’s going to buy my some torte? I think I earned it.’

Derek gaped at him. Deucalion just chuckled and pulled his dark glasses from his pocket, putting them on.

‘I want you both out of Berlin by morning.’ he announced. ‘Or I will be taking steps to eliminate both of you.’ He strode towards the door, Ennis in tow. ‘Oh and do take the other Miss Argent with you, Stiles. She’s very very annoying.’

‘Yeah yeah, whatever.’ Stiles’ eyes were shining. He looked impossibly pleased with himself and Derek wanted to wipe the smug little smirk off his face. He waited until Deucalion and Ennis were making their way down the stairs before he said anything though.

‘You…’ he started and Stiles burst out laughing.

‘I know.’ He sidled over, his arms going around Derek’s waist. ‘Can you ever possibly forgive me?’ he fluttered his eyelashes at him and Derek bared his fangs in reply.

‘You made this all happen?’ he asked and Stiles pressed a kiss to his bloody mouth, licking his lips clean afterwards.

‘Every little bit of it.’ he replied. ‘Now shut the fuck up and kiss me some more.’

************

_Six months later._

Derek got up, stretching out his back and making a litany of canine noises of satisfaction. His body ached in all the right places, the result of a night of very energetic sex that bordered on frenzied. He’d never expected that of a partner who wasn’t a wolf, but then again Stiles wasn’t exactly human either.

He padded through the loft, the space no longer as empty as it had been now that he was cohabiting with a Spark, tripping over a pair of abandoned sneakers and swearing his way to the kitchenette. He got the ancient coffee maker going and listened with amusement as Stiles finally roused himself enough to go piss.

They had done as instructed by Deucalion and taken the first flight out of West Berlin that they could get on. Derek hadn’t been surprised to see Allison in the line of seats across from them, in spite of the fact that he hadn’t really seen Stiles make contact after they’d escaped through the tunnels to the other side of the river. He had been surprised to see Danny sitting next to her in a very dapper looking suit and clutching a suitcase that had turned out to be full of money, gems and bonds that he’d glamoured to looked like business documents and bags of boiled candies. When questioned, he’d simply stated that he would be bored in Berlin by himself. Now he was the proprietor of a gloriously decadent gay club in the Village and thoroughly enjoying himself by all accounts.

Allison had gone to Singapore to be with Lydia and continue her ascendence through the ranks of the CIA. They periodically sent postcards and odd artefacts by post that had Stiles beaming and smelling happy for days and Derek would feel jealous if he wasn’t so sure that his Spark would never stray. As it turned out, they were even more possessive than werewolves and Stiles was the one who would give people the death glare of their eyes lingered too long on Derek.

The CIA had been waiting for them when they’d touched down, although Danny had slipped past them without even blinking. Gerard had been incandescent when they’d arrived without the List. The first week back had seen them being debriefed multiple times in separate rooms, and Derek had burned through cigarette after cigarette, leg jiggling while he snarled his way through the interviews and worried frantically about the man he’d come home with as Gerard had ranted and raved about him lying about Kate’s identity and involvement. At one point he’d been convinced that they would be detained forever and made to disappear because of what they knew and then just like that, he’d had been released from right in the middle of an interrogation. Stiles had had a determined gleam in his eyes when they’d been reunited moments later from rooms on the same passageway and Derek had desperately wanted to know what had gone down to make the people talking to him go pale when their superior had spoken in their ears and they’d made their apologies and ushered him back outside.

The subsequent meeting with Peter and Chris had been both of them looking shifty while Stiles smirked at them across the table and Derek had known that they’d known far more than they’d let on about the Spark’s movements while they were in Berlin. That had been confirmed by Peter’s remarks about Derek going to get a List and coming back with a mate instead. Chris hadn’t seemed fazed in the slightest about the revelations as to who the Jaguar was and was equally dispassionate about her death. He had been delighted that Allison was safe and Derek could understand that.

Stiles had said no more after that and Derek had learned enough about the way death came with little care for those affected that he’d let it go. It wasn’t like he didn’t have secrets, although those seemed to now be few and far between. He’d moved into the Loft like it was a foregone conclusion and Derek, not one to ever look a gift Spark in the mouth, had let him. It seemed the mate thing might have been more on the money than he’d expected. Less expected had been how much Stiles had simply interwoven himself into Derek’s life. He’d completely charmed everyone in the pack (he and Scott were thick as thieves now and it had made them all closer as a unit, much to Derek’s chagrin) and Derek had given him free rein.

The investigation into Berlin hadn’t allowed them to be out back on active missions and so Derek was, for the first time in his life, forced into a domesticated situation where he not only was living with someone who wasn’t a blood relative but was also making him give time and care to the pack he’d inherited from Laura. It was a complete shock to find out he actually enjoyed it, but he did.

He sighed happily and leaned back against the counter and contemplated his day. Being on permanent garden leave, at least until all the shit was sorted out regarding Gerard and Kate and Berlin and just how deep the rot went, meant having his days to himself. He didn’t have any actual skills, unlike Stiles. He’d found a tiny shop premises in the Village and had set up something that seemed to be part consultancy, part esoteric boutique and part private detective. The fact that he was supposed to be keeping his head down hadn’t deterred him at all and he spent many a happy day there now, selling all kinds of things he really shouldn’t have been. The whole place fairly stank of magic and white sage incense and Derek avoided it like the plague because it made him sneeze for hours afterwards.

The coffee finally filtered through and he poured two mugs and doctored Stiles’ with cream and sugar, then carried them through to the bedroom. Stiles was back in bed, the covers pulled up to his chin, amber eyes sparkling.

‘Morning.’ He dropped them to take his mug and Derek smirked at the mottled bruises that dotted his Spark’s neck and shoulders. Stiles, it turned out, had a terrible biting kink.

‘Morning.’ He got back into bed, sipping his coffee and looking at the grey sky outside the window. They sat in silence for a while and Derek set his empty mug aside, ready for a repeat performance when Stiles’ eyes flashed. He was better than a doorbell, his magic picking up on people activating the wards downstairs long before Derek heard them.

‘It’s Chris and Peter.’ he announced and Derek frowned.

He got into his pair of discarded jeans and went to answer the door, dragging his fingers through his impressive bedhead before he let them in. True to form, they were both immaculately dressed, the tailoring on their suits so sharp it could have cut him.

‘Is that Italian roast?’ Peter asked in lieu of greeting and made a direct line for the coffee. Chris gave him an indulgent smile and turned to Derek.

‘Where is he?’ he asked and Derek jerked his head in the direction of the bedroom.

‘Stiles.’ he said, not bothering to raise his voice. ‘Your presence is required.’

It was given moments later, wearing an electric blue silk kimono with a truly garish dragon embroidered on the back, swinging the tie like a burlesque dancer as he came and draped himself over Derek’s lap on the couch.

‘Well now.’ His grin was impish. ‘What do you need us to do?’

‘That’s just uncalled for.’ Peter countered, although his grin was equally wicked.  
Why do you think we need you to do something?’

‘Please.’ Stiles held out an imperious hand. ‘Just give me the file.’

Derek watched Chris and Peter exchange looks. He could already feel anticipation flowing through him and his smile was wolfish.

‘That’s the thing.’ Chris had the tiniest tic in his right eye. ‘There is no file. You are both still on probation. This would be strictly off the books.’

‘Oh?’ Now Derek was intrigued. ‘What are we dealing with?’

‘It seems that the internal investigation has thrown up all kinds of questions about Gerard’s involvement in the deaths of your family and Kate’s subsequent faking of her own as well as those about just how much he knew about her being the Jaguar.’ Peter said, looking smug. ‘They found Kate in the river last week. She didn’t look so good, but she was wearing this.’ he took something out of his pocket and threw it to Derek. He recognised it of course, the pendant she’d always worn and had been wearing the day he killed her.

‘So?’ he asked and Peter’s smile widened.

‘Look at it carefully.’ he instructed and Derek did. He ran his finger along it and felt a tiny imperfection on the back. When he rubbed at it, a cunningly concealed part slid away and revealed a tiny compartment.

‘Damn.’ Stiles was peering over his shoulder. ‘Now that’s old school work.’

‘There was a microchip in there.’ Chris looked pained. ‘It had details of every operation Kate ever did basically since she finished training, and the history of double dealing is terrifying. As soon as Gerard found out what it was, he took off. He’s been dark for two days. We need you two to find him.’

‘You’re the only ones we can trust.’ Peter added.

Derek looked at the face of the pendant, the wolf and hunter picked out in silver. He handed it to Stiles and watched as his Spark fastened it around his slender neck.

‘It suits you.’ he remarked and Stiles raised an eyebrow at him.

‘I’m game if you are.’ he said to Derek and he turned back to Peter and Chris.

‘Looks like we’re in.’ he said and smiled.


End file.
